


Until Vexing Do We Part

by ivycross



Series: Vexing Verse [2]
Category: Star Trek: Mirror Universe, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Assassination Attempt(s), Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind Meld, Pon Farr, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-21 12:39:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13741071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivycross/pseuds/ivycross
Summary: You are cordially invited to attend the wedding of Captain James T. Kirk and Commander Spock. Please don't mind the attempts on Kirk's life, the fact that Spock has shut himself up in his room or the strange man in the dark suit lurking around the hotel.  It will be a good time for all so be sure to RSVP.  Admiral Archer is going to be there and he's bringing his dog.





	Until Vexing Do We Part

**Author's Note:**

  * For [museaway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/museaway/gifts).



> So this is five years late but better late than never, right? Maybe? I'm really really sorry that this is late.
> 
> Notes:  
> 1\. There is a line of Vulcan in this fic. It basically translates to "My Th'y'la, I cherish thee."  
> 2\. There are lines between forward slashes. They are marking the communication between the characters during Pon Farr and bonding.  
> 3\. You'll notice that in the fic I spell Th'y'la as T'hai'la. It's not wrong, just an alternative spelling that I saw posted on Tumblr back in the day.  
> 4\. The special guest stars are the character Reed and Malloy from the show Adam-12. At the time fo writing this, I was watching that show a lot and thought it would be fun to drop them into the tale.

Kirk sat on the floor at the check-in desk, the cold marble causing his ass to go numb. He was wrapped in a blanket that Dr. McCoy had snatched off a hapless EMT that had been trying to do her job when the good doctor ran her off with a series of insults. He was sitting beside Kirk on his knees, running his type II medical scanner over his captain. On Kirk’s other side, dusty and on high alert was Mr. Farrell, his phaser at the ready.

On the other side of the Hotel's lobby was the local police, huddled together in a circle. With shaking heads and not so subtle glances in Kirk's direction they were talking in hushed tones. Kirk squinted at them trying to read their lips, but they kept turning their heads so he couldn't see. Clever bastards.

After a minute, two of them broke away from the gathering. They walked up to Kirk, standing over him, looking down their noses with an attitude that showed they didn’t want to be there. Kirk bristled and went to stand, but McCoy's hand gripped his wrist. "Don't even think about it, Jim."

The tall blond cop with green eyes, the name ‘Malloy’ on his badge, folded his arms. "Well Captain Kirk, we've talked to the witnesses and every one of them doesn’t seem to know a thing."

"I see," Kirk said, glaring at him. "Anything else?"

The second officer, a younger-looking, dark-haired man spoke up. His badge read ‘Reed’. "We checked the balcony overhead since that's where everyone is certain the shots were fired from. We found a power cell from a type II phaser. It will be sent away to the labs to check for fingerprints and DNA."

Kirk rubbed his face with one hand and sighed.

"So, right now you have nothing?" Kirk noted the way the cops caught each others eye.

"At this time, that's correct, but we will file our report and someone should be in contact with you," Malloy said.

"Of course," Kirk replied, a brittle smile crossing his lips.

The two officers tipped their hats to Kirk and McCoy and walked towards the exit.

McCoy pocketed his scanner. "You know Jim, nothing will come of that report. That's even if it gets filed."

Yeah." Kirk sighed again. That always seemed to be the case. When the shit hit the fan, everyone came crying to the Fleet: 'Oh boo hoo, the Klingons are being assholes, boo hoo,' but the rest of the time, people didn’t want anything to do with them.

Like this asshole here...

A short balding man marched up to Kirk, his broad chest heaving with rage. His face shone with sweat in spite of how cold it was outside. The armpits of his bright yellow button up shirt were stained.

"In all the years I have run this hotel this is the first time that anything like this has ever happened,” the man said. “I want you to know Captain that I am holding you personally responsible for all damages and the death of poor Amy."

Kirk squinted at the man. "Who?”

"I think that was the girl who was trying to check us in," McCoy informed Kirk. “She’s dead.” He added pointing over at the body. It was a young dark-haired girl and from the looks of things she had taken a phaser blast right to the chest. There was a large, blackened hole in the center of her body.

Kirk scowled at the corpse, then at McCoy, then over at the short bald man. "I don't know why you're holding me responsible. I didn’t kill her."

"I'm pretty sure you were at least thinking about it," McCoy said. “I saw how you were glaring at her while she was trying to check us in.”

Kirk held up a finger giving McCoy a quick glance. "But the point I am trying to make here is that I didn't.” He returned his gaze to the little man, lowering his hand. “So, I don't see how you're holding me responsible for anything. In fact..."

Kirk stood, shrugging the blanket off his shoulders, towering over the little man. With care, he smoothed down the front of his gold command vest and straightened his sash.

The man held his ground and even tried to square his shoulders. “In fact?”

Kirk grinned. "In fact, I will be holding you responsible."

"What? Under what authority?"

"Under the authority that a lot of credits were paid to this hotel to host my wedding. And a large chunk of that was to go towards security. I have over 150 guests coming to this event and most of them are high ranking officials in the Imperial Fleet. Do you think they are going to walk in here now?”

The little man’s face turned red. He began to shake. “But─”

"But,” Kirk said, patting the man on the shoulder. “You're going to fix this and keep everything nice and quiet aren’t you?" Kirk gave the man a tight-lipped little smile.

The man took a step forward, his nostrils flaring. "That's the problem with your type. You think you can just threaten everyone, but you don't scare me. You're just fleet trash."

At once everything in the lobby went deadly quiet. Kirk looked at the expressions of his crew. Apparently, they had all heard the remark and were unhappy about it. McCoy and Mr. Farrell were. on their feet and each up took up position on either side of Kirk. They didn't look too pleased either.

Kirk turned back to face the little man and wished he was on his ship. There he could kill him. But this was the homeworld and he was not on official duty. He was expected to mind his P's&Q's and play nice with the public. Otherwise, he would be a liability and The Empire had only one way to deal with liabilities. That didn't mean however that Kirk couldn't deal with this insult in some other way.

"Fleet trash?” He set his mouth in a nasty looking grin that showed almost all his teeth. “Oh dear. That's not a very nice thing to say to us. We might take offense.” Kirk's grin twisted into an ugly sneer and his eyes narrowed. “Tell you what, you apologize right now and make sure that nothing else fucking happens while we're here, and I won't let my crew rip you apart right here in this lobby."

He leaned over the little man, who was stark white. He was crying too, or at least there were tears in his eyes.

"I’m a…I’m sorry," he said. His tear-filled eyes were rolled back showing the whites.

"Thank you," Kirk said, patting the man on the shoulder again. He turned around to face his crew. They still had murder written on their features. "Now, did everyone hear that?"

"Can we lie and say we didn't?"

Kirk turned his gaze to his yeoman and shook a finger at her. "Now, now Janice. The man is being sincere." Kirk grabbed the man by his shirt collar dragging him forward. "See? Look how sincere he is."

He held the man so that everyone could see him. And everyone was taking a good look at him too. This was a man who would never sleep again for as long as he lived.

Kirk pulled the man back and let go of his collar. "There now, I’m really glad we’ve come to an understanding." The man swayed on his feet as Kirk flashed him a mad little grin. "Now, can you check us in, or do you need to find someone to do that, because I would like to head up to my room and change for dinner."

"I can do it," the man said. He scrambled away from Kirk, running to the safety of the counter. "I’ll be happy to do it. Please just let me pull everything up. It will only take a second."

He clicked away at an old-fashioned keyboard and Kirk took a moment to relax. He needed a drink and something to eat. He felt shaky.

Next to him, McCoy chuckled under his breath. "I gotta tell ya, Jim. You sure do have a way with people."

"I do, don't I? But you see Bones, that is why I’m the captain."

“Better you than me.”

Kirk looked at the doctor, his lips pursed and snorted. “You would rather get on my nerves.”

“A man needs his hobbies, Jim,” McCoy said. He grinned at Kirk and went off the fetch his luggage.

After a few minutes of watching the little man fight with his computer, Kirk cheerfully held his room key in hand and was following a nervous looking bellhop to the elevators. He hummed a little as he walked, wondering what the rest his night had in store for him.

The cops were now long gone. Of course, Kirk wasn't going to hold his breath to hear back from them. As much as Kirk hated to think it, McCoy was right about the likelihood of that report even being filed.

It didn't matter. What was another assassination attempt? It was done, for now, and all he wanted was food and brandy. A lot of brandy. This place was bound to have some high credit stuff.

This was after all the Chêne de Milou resort and hotel, where the empire's wealthy and elite came to play in the snow. Especially during this time of year: Solstice. Kirk peered around as he walked the halls at the extravagant yet tasteful decorations of ornamental wreaths and lights, the garlands made of pine and ribbon. There were even tiny altars set up in corners to represent long dead gods of old Rome.

There was even a side nook made to look like a quaint 19th-century Victorian living room, complete with a roaring fire and small children playing with a cocker spaniel puppy. There a large portrait of the Caesar dressed as Kris Kringle hung over the fireplace. Candles burned under it on the mantel, making its gilded frame glow and Kirk could just make out the words, “May the light always shine on our glorious ruler.”

In all honesty, all of these trappings made Kirk's eyes roll and his stomach churn. He didn't want to be here, having some lavish wedding. Left up to him he would be standing barefoot on a beach on Risa, exchanging rings with Spock and drinking fruity cocktails that contained far too much rum.

But Spock had insisted on the large Solstice wedding. It meant something to him. After all, it was two Solstices ago that Spock had, under the guise of a secret admirer, courted Kirk. The following year he had presented Kirk with a ring, which Kirk had accepted gleefully. Then Spock put announcements of their engagement in every new source in the Empire and began to plan their wedding. That is when all of Kirk's glee drained away.

Regardless of this, he still tried. When Spock asked about color schemes or flower choices, Kirk gave his opinion. When Spock fussed over the guest list, Kirk made suggestions. Even when Spock said he wanted the wedding to be hosted at the most lavish hotel resort, Kirk gritted his teeth and smiled.

But then Spock left. No reason giving other than he needed to go to Vulcan. He hadn't even bothered to ask. He just said that he was going and would meet Kirk at the hotel. Kirk hadn't understood then and he still didn't understand now. In fact, he was still more than a little pissed off about the whole affair, so it was best not to think about it. He was here. Spock would be here. They would get married and move on with their lives.

On the fifth floor, the bellhop led Kirk to his room. It was a large ornate suite, it walls a creamy peach and the thick carpet an off-white. Kirk whistled low at how spacious it was as he swiped his credit chit, giving the bellhop a meager tip. He saw the pissed off expression on the young man's face and snorted with laughter as the bellhop stomped his feet as he left the room.

"Finest resort in the empire and they have little shits like that working here," Kirk said to the empty air.

Silence answered him. He stood there for several seconds longer before he picked up his suitcase and carried it into the bedroom. He hefted the bag on the bed itself before sitting down and working his boots off.

Once off, he set both shoes aside and stood. He opened his suitcase and peered down into it before pulling out a black button up. He laid it out on the bed before reaching inside his vest and undoing the ties that held it on. His toes wiggled and dug themselves into the carpet. He shrugged off his vest, balled it up and tossed it across the room. Later, he would pick it up and fold it carefully inside his bag, but for now--

Suddenly there was an explosion of glass as the large bedroom window blew in. Kirk hit the ground right before a phaser blast came in through the hole. There was a loud bang as it hit the wall. A torrent of wind poured into the room. He found himself covered in broken shards and his hands moved to protect his head. He waited to see if there would be another shot before standing up on trembling legs.

He peered around the room. The glass on the floor twinkled in the light. The shirt he had laid out was now in a clumsy heap. The wall across from him was burnt black.

Kirk moved over to the window, ignoring the glass cutting into his bare feet. Outside there was nothing but snow, darkness, and moonlight. The crisp winter wind blew and stung his eyes, making them water. He blinked away the tears and continued to search for some kind of clue.

Down on the ground a movement caught his eye. It was gone in a flash and Kirk wondered if he had really seen anything at all, but there it was again. Kirk locked his gaze on it and watched as a slim figure ran through the snow into the darkness beyond. They vanished into the gloom. Kirk moved away from the window, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

Two murder attempts in one night? Who was that desperate to see him dead?

 

***

 

Down in the hotel's fine restaurant, Kirk sat at a table alone near the large bay windows and peered out into the darkness. He kept trying to discern if the shadows he saw moving were just that. In his mind, slim figures moved along the trees.

The police had been called and the same two officers from before answered. This time instead of giving Kirk the same “we're doing our best and someone would be in touch routine,” they seemed troubled. They asked him a million questions as McCoy, cursing the whole time, picking broken glass out of Kirk's feet. They were still sore even after the doctor had used a dermal regenerator on them.

A waiter came up to the table and started to lay the dinner out, drawing Kirk out of his thoughts. He thanked the man and looked down at his food, but only just. He could feel somebody’s eyes boring into him.

He looked up and around the room. He spotted them three tables down. She was an older woman, but he couldn't tell her exact age, with silver gray hair that was piled up high on her head in a mass of curls. She wore a black dress and her red painted nails tapped idly on her wineglass. She was looking at him over the shoulder of her dinner companion, whose face Kirk couldn't see. He had no clue who she was, but from the way she narrowed her eyes at him, he was almost certain that she knew him from somewhere.

He set about eating his dinner though he wasn't tasting it. Ever so often he would look up from his plate to see her still staring at him. After the fourth time, He became a little annoyed. His annoyance grew as she stood and headed toward his table with her companion.

The woman gave him a smile. "Captain Kirk?"

Kirk wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood. “Yes? May I help you?” He made sure to let ice drip off his voice as he spoke. It didn't seem to have any effect on the woman or her companion, an older Vulcan gentleman.

He reminded Kirk of Spock and he wondered if maybe they weren't related somehow. Maybe an uncle, or cousin. He was sure Spock didn't have any siblings so... He cursed himself. If they were members of Spocks' family this was no way to endear himself to them. He just hoped they weren't closely related.

The woman gave Kirk an appraising look. “Beg your pardon Captain but I just wanted to meet the man my son was marrying."

The bottom of Kirk's stomach dropped.

"You're Spock's mother?"

"Yes and this is Spock's father: Ambassador Sarek of Vulcan."

"Captain Kirk." Sarek gave a small bow of his head. "It is a pleasure to meet you. You must forgive this interruption but my wife insisted that we venture over to your table and introduce ourselves.” Sareks dark eyes moved over Kirk and he turned his attention to Amanda. “Satisfied?”

Amanda wrinkled her nose. “Not really.” She stepped closer to Kirk. “Tell me Captain what have you offered my son that he would even think about marrying someone like you?”

Kirk gaped. “What?”

“You heard me? Spock is a good boy that would never associate with trash such as yourself, so tell me. What was it? Blackmail? I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.” She sniffed leaning away from Kirk.

Sarek Cleaned his throat.” Amanda...” The warning in his voice was unmistakable. Amanda blanched and looked at her husband. She opened her mouth maybe to say something but then closed it.

Sarek looked back at Kirk his face almost apologetic. “You will please have to excuse my wife."

Like hell. Kirk smiled as he said. “Of course. These things are so stressful. Brings out the worst in everyone.”

Sarek nodded while Amanda lips curled ever so slightly.

“Indeed. I think it is time for me and my wife to retire. Good night, Captain.”

As Sarek and Amanda began to leave, Kirk reached out and touched the ambassador’s arm. “I take it Spock is here with you?”

Sarek looked down at Kirk's hand and then at him. “Indeed. However, my son complained of illness as we were checking in and has retired early for the night. He may be well enough to see you if you were to pay him a visit. He is in room 610. Now, I bid you good night.”

Sarek stepped away from Kirk's touch and with a hand to the small of her back, he guided Amanda out of the dining room. Right before they exited, Amanda turned and give Kirk a hate-filled look.

Kirk's heart pounded in his chest. Spock was at the hotel. He took a step towards the exit and ran into someone.

“Excuse me, Captain. I did not see you there.”

Kirk took a step back. The man before him was a tall fellow with long dark hair and a neat looking close-clipped beard. He wore a dark suit with a white collared shirt. He smiled in a friendly way which put Kirk on edge.

“I’m afraid the fault is mine, Mr....?” Kirk said watching the man.

The stranger clapped a hand on Kirk's shoulder. “You are too gracious, Captain. I would love to chat, but I have people waiting for me. Good night.” He stepped past Kirk and headed towards a table at the far end of the dining room.

Kirk, his lips pursed and his brow knotted, watched the man move through the room. Then he took off toward the sixth floor.

 

***

 

On the sixth floor, Kirk stepped out into the hall, tentatively peering around. The hallway was empty, though he could hear voices and other sounds coming through the walls from the rooms nearby. He looked at the room number of the nearest door. It was room 625, so he headed left following the numbers as they counted backward until he reached room 610. Spock’s room.

Kirk ran his fingers through his hair and smoothed down his shirt before raising his fist, knocking on the door. It made a loud thumping as it hit the wood and Kirk stepped back to wait.

The door contained a spyhole. Kirk imagined Spock peering through it, seeing him standing there. Would Spock be excited to see him? Would he throw open the door and scoop Kirk up in his arms? No, that wasn't Spock. The Vulcan would be calm and serene when opening the door and greeting Kirk. He would be so formal and show his captain every courtesy.

He would sit Kirk down in a chair, offer him a drink and then sit close by to ask how Kirk was and discuss ship business. Once all formalities were out of the way, he would more than likely push Kirk to the floor and would fuck him until they were both senseless.

Kirk resisted the urge to bounce on his toes in excitement. The thought of Spock's weight on top of him, the Vulcan thrusting wildly into him, made Kirk's whole being tingle. Now if Spock would just open the door.

He knocked again, louder than before. The sound echoed down the empty hallway and he thought he heard a door open at the other end. He withstood the urge to look. He wanted all his attention to be set right in front of him, so when Spock opened the door, Kirk could fully take him in.

He stood and waited but the door remained shut. He thought he heard a rustling from within. A wave of uncertainty washed over Kirk as he stared at the door.

Spock saw him there, but he doesn't want to talk to him, so he wasn't going to answer the door.

Frowning, Kirk knocked a third time and this time he was sure he heard something on the other side of the door. He pressed his ear up against the wood, holding his breath. There was more movement, he was certain.

Kirk gritted his teeth and pounded on the door once more. “Spock,” he called out. “Spock, you in there? It's James.”

Nothing.

“Goddammit, Spock. Open this door.”

Kirk stood and waited, but from the other side, there was dead silence. Maybe he had imagined the noise before. Down the hall, he heard another door open and this time he did look. Five doors down he saw an attractive Vulcan woman, leaning into the hall from one of the rooms, watching him carefully.

Stepping back from Spock's door, Kirk smiled and waved at her. “I guess he's not in.”

“It would seem so,” the woman said. She was gorgeous, with thick brown hair that fell down past her shoulder in waves. She wore a large cream colored woolen sweater that hung down past her waist with black leggings and thick black socks over her feet. Even with her wearing all of those clothes Kirk caught the tiny shiver as she stood there.

Was Spock comfortable? This was a winter resort and Vulcan's weren't fans of cooler weather. Maybe he was bundled up in a thick sweater under a deep pile blankets, drinking something hot, tea most likely. Kirk repressed a sigh, feeling the loss that he wasn't in that pile of blankets with him.

The Vulcan woman tipped her head to one side as she continued to watch Kirk. It was unnerving the way her eyes never left him.

What could she be thinking, just staring at him like that? Probably that he was some kind of stalker or something. At once Kirk's smile widened. “I should introduce myself. I'm James Kirk. Spock's fiancé.”

She gave a nod but said nothing.

“Are you one Spock's cousins?”

“No,” came her reply. “Excuse me.” With that she was gone, the door shutting behind her with a soft thud.

Kirk stared blankly at where she had stood and then snarled at the empty space. “Rude bitch.”

He gave Spock's door one last withering look and walked back towards the lift. It was obvious that Spock wasn't in at the moment. That was okay. Kirk could come back later and try again. And if Spock knew what was good for him he would answer that fucking door.

 

***

  
Bright morning sun poured through the large bay windows of the restaurant shining on the woodwork making every bit of it gleam and glisten. Outside the snow was scintillating and already people were making their way outside to play in the niveous wonderland of the resort grounds.

Kirk sat at a table in a thick cable knit sweater. He watched as a happy couple passed by the window, arm in arm, the colors of their winter coats matching, and made a face. It was shameful what people would wear out in public.

He turned away. The sight of all these blissful people made his stomach turn. He looked down at his half-eaten breakfast and pushed his plate away. He hadn't slept well and had hoped that breakfast would lighten his mood. It had not.

"Are you going to eat that?"

Kirk looked up into McCoy's face as the man started picking bits of food off his plate. Kirk moved the plate back toward him on principle. "Why are you here?" He hissed.

"You know I hate eating alone," McCoy said.

"Then eat with someone else."

McCoy reached over the table and speared Kirk's toast with his fork. "I would but everyone else is still asleep." He put the toast on his plate and started smearing jam all over it. “You see Spock yet?”

Kirk shook his head. “No. I went to his room last night but there was no answer.”

“I'm not surprised. I saw him briefly while getting ice. Frankly, he looked like shit.” McCoy took a bite of the toast, leaving jam in the corners of his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully before adding, with his mouth still full, much to Kirk's displeasure: “Must be shuttle fatigue.”

That made sense. Shuttle travel was never a picnic with cramped seats, stale air, and horrible food. Although, both of Spock's parents had looked well and rested last night. Maybe Spock had taken another flight?

Kirk tugged on the cuffs of his sweater absentmindedly. “Must be. I'm not really that worried about it. I'll see Spock at the rehearsal this afternoon.”

McCoy set down the toast and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “You know, Jim; I always found it more than a little odd that Spock just up and left when he did.”

Kirk sat back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. “I don't see where that's really your concern.”

McCoy lifted his eyebrows. “I suppose it's not, even though I'm the one that had to put up with your hateful ass for the last several weeks.” He refolded the napkin in his hand setting down beside his plate. “Of course I understand. I would have been pissed off too in your position. Hell, I might have chased Spock down, and asked him just what was so damned important.”

“Are you asking why I didn't go after him?”

“Maybe?”

 “I had to stay with the ship. I'm the Captain." Kirk exhaled through his nose and uncrossed his arms. "I can't just fuck off to follow Spock because he got a hair up his ass about something back home. I mean it's not like I don't trust him or anything.”

“No one said anything of the sort.” His blue eyes regarded Kirk for a moment. ”But since you brought it up...” Kirk's face grew hot under McCoy's attention and his jaw clenched.

“It's not even in question,” Kirk said almost through his teeth. This earned him another shrewd look from the doctor. Kirk met his stare and the two of the locked eyes for several seconds.

McCoy was the first the break as he turned his gaze toward the windows. "If you say so Jim," he said staring off into the winter landscape outside. Kirk snorted victoriously, although it felt hollow.

He never had any reason to believe that Spock would do anything to betray the trust between them, although it was odd Spock took off in the first place. And he never said why, nor did he contact Jim the entire time he was gone. It wasn't like there weren't COMM units on Vulcan, so what was the deal?

Kirk bit the inside of the cheek. He didn't like it that Spock was so distant. He was used to Spock just being there, with sweeping gestures, unmerited affection and from time to time carefully chosen terms of endearment for his captain. It had been a long and lonely month for Kirk. He was ready for that to be over.

With his ire ebbing away Kirk joined McCoy in peering out the window. The remainder of their breakfast went untouched and eventually was whisked away by a silent member to the staff as he refilled their coffee. Together Kirk and McCoy sat in silence, each lost in their own heads.

"Captain Kirk." The calm, quiet greeting broke through Kirk's thoughts, which had been of sneaking up to Spock's room and seeing if he could just pick the lock. Both he and McCoy turned in their seats to see Sarek standing by their table. He wore dark russet robes that were trimmed in gold and green. He made a striking display before them and Kirk couldn't help seeing his fiancé in the man.

"Ambassador Sarek," Kirk said standing from the table. "It's good to see you this morning. Will you join us?"

Sarek gave a nod of his head and took the seat next to Kirk. Kirk returned to his seat and signaled to a nearby waiter. Sarek politely refused food, stating he had already broken his fast but requested a cup of spiced tea with honey liqueur. "It keeps the cold at bay," he said when Kirk gave him a curious look.

"I didn't think Vulcan's touched alcohol," McCoy said.

Sarek gave McCoy a bemused look. "Why ever not? It is not as though Terran alcohol have any effect on Vulcans."

Kirk turned a bright smile on the ambassador. "What do we, Dr. McCoy here and Myself, owe the pleasure of your company?” By now the waiter had returned with a silver teapot and an extra cup and saucer for Sarek. Everyone waited patiently for the waiter to lay the china out and fill the cup, leaving the pot behind. Sarek gently with both hands lifted the cup to his face, sniffing it before taking a sip.

"Wonderful," he said before setting the cup back down. His hands remained around it though. He turned his dark eyes to Kirk. "Captain, about last night. I would like to apologize for my wife behavior. She is at best an excitable woman who is ferociously protective of our son. She feels that you are not a good match for him"

"No need for that Ambassador. I think I understand."

"Do you?" Sarek paused here to take another drink of his tea. "Then that will make what I am about to say easier. I do not think that my wife's fears are unwarranted."

Kirk sat still his grin frozen on this face. All of a sudden he felt very cold. "What do you mean Ambassador?"

"Just what I said, Captain. I do not think that you have what is needed to enter into a marriage with any Vulcan, let alone my child."

From Across the Table, McCoy cleared his throat. "Excuse me for butting in like this Mr. Ambassador, but are you aware that Jim and Spock have been in a relationship for over two years?"

Sarek gave McCoy a stern look as one eyebrow went up. "I am very aware of such things, Doctor, but I feel that is not enough." He turned his gaze back to Kirk. "Captain, can you honestly tell me that you are prepared to deal with my son and his culture for the rest of your life? Because please understand you will not be able to separate the two."

"Ambassador Sarek, I do not think that that will be an issue between us," Kirk said his tone level.

Sarek gave him a look that Kirk couldn't read and stood.

"Very well, Captain. I will trust that you are right in this matter. However, I would like to point out that you are already off to a bad start if what I heard is correct."

"And that would be?" Kirk asked.

"When you went to see Spock last night. I am given to understand that when there was no answer at his door, you proceeded to make a nuisance of yourself and disrupt the rest of the guests."

Well shit...

"About that," Kirk started. "It was not my intention to disrupt the other guests. I thought I heard movement in Spock's rooms and got excited. That's all." Kirk tried to flash the Ambassador another smile.

Sarek stared down at him, the man's expression still unreadable. "I see. Well then Captain, I will not take up any more of your time, but please be aware that I have people watching you. I trust you understand why. Good day."

Sarek walked through the tables and toward the rest of the hotel, his robes making quiet rustling sounds as he went. Kirk sat dumbfounded as the man left before turning round to face McCoy.

"Well, that could have gone better... Or worse? Hard to say really," McCoy said.

"Hard to say, " Kirk echoed. That was just great. It would seem that both of Spock's parents hated him. Kirk blew out a breath and glowered at the table.

"I wouldn't worry about it, Jim. It will all be over tomorrow," McCoy said. Kirk nodded. It would be over tomorrow, thank Ceasar for that.

After that McCoy took his leave, stating that he was going to change clothes and do a little sightseeing. Kirk was alone again and the feeling was starting to chafe. He peered over the restaurant to see if any of his crew were up and about yet. Maybe one of two would sit with him while they ate, provided that no one thought to pull a knife on him.

After a few seconds and not seeing anyone, Kirk figured it was time to go. He heard that the hotel had an indoor pool that was heated. Maybe a swim would help him relax?

"Captain Kirk! Look over here!"

Kirk looked back towards the window and jumped in his chair as a bright light flashed. Blinking away the spots dancing before his eyes Kirk saw outside a man with a holo imager. A small woman stood next to him with a recorder in her hands. "Captain Kirk! Is it true that there have been attempts made on your life?"

Sucking on his lips, Kirk pushed back out of his chair heading toward the exit. Just what he needed, the press. How did they even find him? The location of the wedding hadn't been announced to the public.

"Wait, Captain! One more question. Is it true that the wedding has been called off because of Commander Spock's indiscretions?"

Kirk's steps slowed down, but he didn't stop as he continued to march out the dining room. He headed towards the lobby and the elevators. Around him, people seemed to be staring at him with pity written on their faces. It unnerved him and he walked faster.

In the lobby, Mr. Farrell ran up to Kirk, wearing a brown coat that was a little too small for his large frame. He held a PADD in one hand. "Sir, I’ve been looking for you," he panted out.

"That’s funny because I have been wondering where in the hell you've been. You know someone else shot at me last night."

Mr. Farrell blanched. "Yes. I'm sorry Sir, but they couldn't find my room and I was stuck at the check-in counter for most the night."

"Whatever. I have a job for you anyway, so come with me." Kirk marched past his guard.

"Yes sir, but I wanted to check with you about something first,” Farrell replied.

"Can it wait?" Kirk called over his shoulder. The elevator was just ahead and so was the long-haired gentleman from last night.

The man smiled as Kirk approached, with Mr. Farrell following behind. "Ah, Captain. Good morning. Beautiful day, is it not?" The man was wearing the same dark suit as before, but this time he wore a purple button-up underneath.

"I’m sorry, but have we met?" Kirk crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the man.

The man laughed, showing two rows of perfect white teeth. "Oh, Captain. you are too much."

"I’m serious."

"I know you are." The man winked.

Kirk couldn't believe this man’s demeanor. He had never met anyone to treat him so… casually. Didn’t this man know who he was?

"Look here--”

"Pissh, save your threats. Look, the elevator has arrived."

The door of the lift slid open and the man stepped inside. He gestured for Kirk to come stand next to him. Kirk shook his head, backing away when there was a loud clamoring behind him.

Looking back, he saw the same woman and imager from out the dining room window. Only this time they were not alone. There were at least two more reporters and three more people with holo imagers.

"Shit.” Kirk weighed his options and then grabbing Mr. Farrell's arm, he dashed into the elevator. Just as the doors started to shut he heard a cry of: "He's in the elevator!" The doors began to close. Kirk yanked on his shirt, shut his eyes and cursed his luck.

"Fifth floor, Captain?" For a second, Kirk had forgotten about the strange man and his dark suit. All of a sudden, being in the elevator no longer seemed like a good idea.

"Or would you like the sixth floor?" The man asked, smiling at him with a beatific expression.

Kirk narrowed his eyes." You tell me?" He set his feet apart and balled his hands into fists.

"Relax. You're safe here. Besides, you have your man beside you. If I try anything, he can shoot me. I see his phaser tucked under that ugly coat he's wearing."

Mr. Farrell moved his right hand back to where he kept his weapon. Kirk shook his head and Mr. Farrell lowered his hand, although rather reluctantly.

"Who the fuck are you?" Kirk demanded of the stranger.

"Have you seen the papers this morning, Captain?"

"Answer me."

"I know that things seem grim, but I wouldn't worry. You know that the papers like to lie to sell more copies and besides that's not the commander's style. He does have some honor."

"What?" Kirk was taken aback. What in the hell was this guy talking about? He started to ask the man to clarify when the elevator dinged it doors opening.

“This is my floor." The man stepped out and turned back to Kirk. "Things will work out, but if they don't, I might know a few people who would love to make your acquaintance. Do try to have a good day." The man gave another wink as the doors shut, leaving Kirk and Mr. Farrell alone.

"Who in the hell is that, Sir?"

"I don’t know, but you're going to find out. Follow him and learn everything you can about him."

Mr. Farrell nodded, his bald head shining. "Yes, sir."

Kirk gave a nod and rubbed his face. He felt ill all of a sudden. What in the hell was that guy talking about?

"Uh, sir?"

"What?" Kirk spoke through his teeth. He needed to go lie down for a moment. The wedding rehearsal was in a few hours and after that was his stag party. He needed all the rest he could get.

"You...uh... haven't seen the papers today, have you?" Mr. Farrell asked.

"No. I have not. Why?" Kirk attempted to be calm, cool, show that he was in control and would not explode or break. This did not have the desired effect as the large man swallowed hard and was now sweating.

"I didn't know if you had heard, but I wanted you to see this before you were asked too many questions." Farrell held out the PADD to Kirk.

Taking it, Kirk looked at the image before him. It was a holo of Spock. He looked a bit rough, dressed in a black sweater and jeans, a dark scarf around his neck. He was arm in arm with a woman.

The same rude bitch from last night

The picture showed them walking along some street. Underneath in large bold print read: "Does Commander Spock's mystery woman spell disaster for him and Captain Kirk?"

Kirk looked into Mr. Farrell face and saw the same pitying gaze that he had seen before going through the lobby. The big man swallowed again.

"There's more," Mr. Farrell said. Kirk started going through the pages, swiping the PADD's screen with a finger until he found the article.

What he saw was something out of nightmares. He scrolled down shaking his head.

"No," Kirk whispered. "No. This isn't right. Someone made a mistake because Spock would never..." He trailed off because he couldn't deny what he saw.

It was Spock─ his Spock─ all long limbs and dark eyes, with that woman. There were a lot of holos that could have been taken the night before, as Spock wore the same dark sweater, but there were others where Spock was dressed in Vulcan robes. Then there was the one where he was in a plain white tee and he reached towards her with the first two fingers of his right hand.

Kirk felt something hot on his face and was surprised when a drop of water hit the PADD's surface. It landed right on Spock's fingers, magnifying them. Kirk's chest tightened and he stood there gasping silently.

He tried to talk, but nothing came out. His mouth simply parted wordlessly as the PADD slipped from his hand. It fell to the floor with a clatter. He looked down it, to see if it had cracked, but he couldn't make anything out. His vision had gone fuzzy with more tears.

"Sir? Are you okay?"

Kirk realized that his guard was still there and had been speaking to him. With his hand, he swiped first at one eye and then the other.

Get it fucking together.

"Yes!" Kirk said. "Yes, I am. I'm fine. I'm... fine."

Farrell appeared horrified, sharing in his heartbreak. "Okay, sir. Would you like me to escort you to your room?" Kirk shook his head. "Okay,” Farrell said. “Shall I leave you then?"

"What?" Panic filled Kirk.

"We're on the fifth floor, sir."

Looking up, Kirk saw that the number five was lit up. The doors were still shut. He looked back at his guard.

"We stopped several minutes ago,” Farrell quickly explained. “I just halted the elevator, so no one would see you like this."

Gratitude welled up from deep inside. "Thank you," Kirk said, his voice wavering.

"Don't thank me. It's my job, although, I will take a small raise in my salary." Farrell grinned.

Kirk laughed. "You opportunistic bastard. I’ll give you a raise and buy you the whore of your choice tonight at my stag party."

"Really? Cause I was only joking ─"

"Shut up. I'm giving you a raise and whore and you'll fucking like it." Kirk continued to laugh as he spoke, feeling dizzy. He felt as if he had lost his mind. Maybe he had? It would make the pain his chest easier to bear. How could Spock...?

He cleared his head with a shake and pointed a finger at his guard. "Now, I gave you a fucking job to do and you better do it, or you'll be the whore at my party. Got it?"

Mr Farrell gave a quick salute. "Sir. Yes sir."

With a manic grin plastered on his face, Kirk returned the salute and stepped out of the elevator. He listened as the doors shut behind him and he staggered down the hall toward his new room. He unlocked the door and went inside. He peered around and felt his lips tremble.

Once again he was alone.

Kirk groaned. What would Spock want with that bitch? Wasn't he enough? Kirk paced the living space outside the bedroom. He curled and uncurled his fists as he did. He needed to talk to Spock. He could go down to his room and... Actually, that would not be a good idea. He was angry and hurt, and his reaction when he was like this was always to hit something. He didn't think punching Spock in the nose would fix anything, although it would make him feel better.

Kirk glanced a table by the wall and spied a COMM unit. Maybe a call? Yes, he would call Spock. Then scream at him until he was exhausted. Afterward, they could meet face to face. With any luck, he would be too tired to fight and they could work things out like sane men. Maybe...

He hit the button and bright cheery voice came through. “Thank you for calling Chêne de Milou. You have reached the front desk. My name is Sara. How may I help you?”

“James Kirk in room 725. Could you please connect me to room 610?”

“Of course, Captain Kirk. One moment, please.” Kirk waited. Music played on the other end of the line while he was on hold. He couldn't make out the song, but it was pleasant sounding. He found himself humming along when Sara came back on the line. “I am sorry Captain, but there is no answer. Would you like to leave a message with me and I can see that it is delivered to the Commander?'

“No. That won't be necessary,” Kirk said. Where could Spock be this early in the morning? Kirk knew that the Vulcan wasn't still asleep. The man hardly went to bed.

“Is there anything else I can assist you with?”

“No,” Kirk said. He hadn't known what to expect but it wasn't this. Now He stood there angry, hurt, humiliated and unsure what to do. He felt worse than before and wanted to lash out. He didn't care who or what. He scrubbed his face with a hand letting it fall back to his side. Then he headed back to the bedroom pulling off his sweater and tossing it on to the floor.

With heavy feet he trudged to the bed and without looking, he flopped on to it. He stared at the ceiling. There must be some kind of misunderstanding and he going to find out what it is.

Shutting his eyes, he rolled over on his side snuggle down into his pillow. Maybe a nap would help.

He laid there and thought he smelled blood. Which was odd because McCoy had healed the cuts on his feet before he moved everything into this room, so there shouldn't be any blood here...

He opened his eyes and saw a dead bird. Its head had been severed from its body and its wings broken. Blood leaked out from its carcass and seeped into the blankets. Kirk's body froze and all he could do was look at the poor creature.

How did he not see this? Oh, right cause he was too wrapped up in Spock. Ugh. When did he become so stupid? He looked at the bird again. No one knew about the new room, save for himself, McCoy, Mr. Farrell, and the hotel staff, so who...

Kirk scrambled off the bed, staring at the mess. He felt ill at the thought that someone had broken into his room and left this there for him. He picked up the thing and pushed open his bedroom window chucked it outside. He then immediately ran into the bath and started to wash his hands.

As the water ran in the sink he looked in the mirror and saw where some of the bird's blood had soaked into his undershirt. Turning the water off Kirk tossed off the tee with a grumble and started to undress. He stepped into the shower and let the hot water hit him. He was feeling shaky again and slowly slid down the tiled wall on to the floor.

Kirk let out a groan as he sat against the shower wall, the hot water falling over him. This was turning into a long day and it was still morning.

 

***

 

The tiny white cup slipped from his fingers. It didn't break, unlike the last two, but it clinked down spilling coffee all over the white table top. “Dammit,” Kirk said as the hot liquid burned him for the third time. His clothes were already stained from the two previous accidents.

Dr. McCoy watched him over the rim of his cup. “I’ve never seen anyone so shaken up over a dead bird.”

“It's not the bird. It's the fact that someone put it in my bed. I just switched rooms and I go to lay down only to find someone has broken in and left that in my bed. As if I fucking needed that.”

“Hmm.” McCoy took another sip of his coffee.

"Say it,” Kirk said as he attempted to mop up his mess with an already soggy napkin.

"Say what?"

"Whatever it is you're thinking. Don't think I can't see the little wheels in your head turning."

McCoy set down his cup and clasped his hands in his lap, in his white collared shirt and blue ascot. Who fucking wears ascots these days? Kirk was really worried about his CMO's fashion sense.

McCoy grinned "Well, for starters Jim, I think you should switch to decaf."

Kirk paused in his task. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, you should use a clean napkin. You know what? Strike that. We should just ask the waitress to move us to another table."

Kirk peered around the restaurant, a small diner off the main road miles from the hotel. It was perfect because, besides an elderly couple at the far end and the staff, they were alone.

"Where is our waitress?" He asked. She hadn't been by their table in twenty minutes and thanks to his shaking hands they were running dangerously low on coffee.

McCoy shrugged. "Who knows. Listen, Jim, you dragged me out here, when I had a nice day of window shopping planned, so why don’t you tell me what's on your mind?"

Kirk dropped his napkin. Where to start? "I need to figure out what the fuck is going on.”

"All right. Now would that be in general, where you stand with Spock, or who's trying to kill you?"

"All the above and then some.”

"Well Jim, I can't help with the in general part but I think I have a good idea about the other two."

"Do tell,” Kirk said taking a sip of what remained of his coffee. It was hot and cheap. It made him feel like he was back on the ship and that grounded him some.

"I think Spock is trying to kill you, so he can play house with his new lady friend."

Kirk set his cup down, then chuckled. "Bones, that's crazy."

"Is it?"

Kirk stopped laughing at the look on McCoy's face. "Spock wouldn't kill me. He's the only person I trust not to try to kill me."

"That may be, but let's look at the facts. Spock takes leave for a month out of blue, something he has never done, right before you two are to be married. His first night at the hotel he is seen being friendly with some Vulcan gal, and judging by some the photos in the tabloids this has been going on for a while. Add to the equation that before you even checked in, someone was taking shots at you."

"That's a pretty theory you got there, but Spock hadn't checked into the hotel when we arrived, so it couldn't have been him."

"I didn't say Spock personally pulled the trigger. Just that he would have reason to want you dead. He probably hired someone."

"Like the man in the suit," Kirk said almost to himself.

 “Who?” 

“There's this strange man in a dark suit at the hotel who’s been following me around.”

“What? Like a stalker, Jim?”

“Well, no, more like I’ve bumped into him twice. I'll swear to it that I have never met him before, but he seems to know me. It’s creeping me the fuck out.”

“Jim, you're pretty well known across the universe, so it's nothing that he recognizes you.”

Kirk shook his head. “No Bones. It's more than that.”

“I don't know Jim, but if anything, my gut is telling me he's a hired assassin and Spock's the one who hired him."

"I don't─"

McCoy held up a hand to stop him. "Jim, I know you don't want to think it, but look at the evidence. The reality of it is that Spock met someone when he went home and instead of just breaking things off with you and causing a scene, he's going to have you removed from the picture." McCoy picked up his cup again and took another drink. "I gotta hand it to Spock, it's damned logical."

Kirk stared down at the table into a pool of spilled coffee. His mind churned, a million thoughts running through his brain. As his brain worked, his reflection looked up him, looking exhausted and defeated. "Fuck that.”

"What?"

“I said ‘fuck that’.” Kirk placed his palms flat on the table. He rose from the table and started toward the door. From behind him, he could hear McCoy bitching about being left with the check, but Kirk waved him off. He needed to get back to the hotel.

 

***

 

Kirk was rushed by a mob of reporters as he walked through the doors of the hotel. Recorders and microphones were swung at his face. The imager flashes blinded him. He snarled and pressed through the throng, spitting out the words “no comment” as he went. He was followed all the way to the lift where he was able to escape them as hotel security kept them at bay. He hit the button for the elevator ducting inside it. When he reached the sixth floor, made straight for Spock's room.

"Spock, open this door!"

The door rocked in its frame as Kirk pounded on it. As he beat on the door, other guests opened up their doors at the ruckus. Kirk didn't care. He snarled at anyone that dared to speak to him directly and continued his tirade.

"Spock! I order you to open up, right now!"

From the other side came a faint voice. "James? Is that you?"

Kirk heard footsteps from the other side and the door shifted as a weight was pressed against it.

"It's me. Open up. I want to talk to you," Kirk said.

"James..." Spock's voice came through low and weak. Kirk could barely hear the Vulcan as he pressed his ear to the door.

"Spock, let me in. We need to talk."

"Talk?” There was a long pause then: “No. You should not be here."

"Spock. Just let me in.”

"No. Go away,” Spock shouted, his voice booming through the door.

Kirk recoiled with shock. He gritted his teeth and started to beat on the wood with his fists again. "Spock. I said to open this door."

"No. Leave. Go away. I do not wish to see you."

"I don't give two fucks what the hell you wish. You will open this door."

"Captain...?"

Kirk halted and turned. It was the Vulcan woman from the night before. "I think you should honor Spock's request and vacate the area," she said.

"And if I don't?" Rage welled up inside Kirk and he felt the urge to choke the pointy-eared bitch right there in the hall.

The woman tipped her head to one side. "If you do not cease your actions then steps will be taken. The proper course of action would be to call the hotel's security, but there are other ways."

Kirk felt the hairs on his arms rise. He glanced down the hall. More Vulcans were pouring out of their rooms and they seemed to be waiting. All of them had their hands tucked into to their robes or pant's pockets. They just stood there watching him and he just knew that they were carrying weapons.

"All right." Kirk stepped away from Spock's door. "I know when I’m outmatched, but I will be back. I'm not going take any of this lying down, do you hear me?"

The Vulcan woman nodded. The gathering behind her remained motionless.

Kirk turned on his heel and left. He couldn’t believe it. How dare she make threats against him? It wasn't like he was fucking her boyfriend.

Or was he?

Taking a step into the elevator to go to his new room on the tenth floor, Kirk bit on his cheek in thought. It occurred to him that Spock never talked about home. There were times he would make vague mention of his parents or something from his childhood but Spock never said too much.

So, could it be that the Vulcan woman is really Spock's lover? Was he the whore here? It wouldn't the first time though before he had never been giving an engagement ring. But with everything that was happening did Spock even still want to marry him? If not, then why show up at all? If so, why bring her along?

There were too many questions popping up that Kirk did not like. Not to mention his conversation with McCoy echoed in his head.

But why would Spock want to kill him? He's reasonable enough to talk things over and tell Kirk that it wasn't working out between them anymore. Yeah, but was Kirk reasonable enough to have that conversation with him?

Kirk's mind flashed back to earlier with Mr. Farrell. He thought he was going break in two at the sight of those pictures. What would he do if Spock came out and told him that it was over?

In that case, killing him would be the most logical course of action. Less chance of Kirk sticking a knife in Spock's throat.

Kirk leaned on the wall of the elevator just before the doors slid open. All at once he felt hot and sick. He would be able to think better with more sleep. Then he could decide if he even wanted to bother with going through with the wedding. Canceling held a lot of appeal.

He pushed on the wall and stepped out on to the tenth floor, heading towards his room. With each step, his feet felt heavier and he noticed that it was getting harder for him to breathe.

He fumbled for his key and struggled to put it into the lock. His vision was blurring and he kept having to blink to refocus. Shuffling into the room, Kirk headed right towards the bed.

He reached the foot of the bed and was about to sit down when something caught his eyes. It was in the center of the bed, a small brown furry ball sitting in a pool of red.

Shaking his head, Kirk swayed on his feet. He knelt down on the mattress reaching out a hand to touch it.

It was still warm. When Kirk pulled his hand away he noticed it was covered in blood. For some time he just stared, the blood slowly drying on his fingertips.

"Not again," he slurred out. His vision grew hazy. He felt his body folding up and then everything went black.

 

***

 

Kirk awoke in his bed in his suite with a pounding in his head and McCoy's fingers in his mouth. Kirk bit down and held on.

“Ouch! Let go, dammit!” McCoy attempted to pull his hand free. “Let go, Jim!” Kirk eventually released him and spit out the taste of sweat, dirt, and blood. McCoy held the wounded appendages close to his chest. "You bit me, you savage!" He threw Kirk a hateful glare.

"What were your fingers doing in my mouth, you quack?"

"I was just looking," McCoy said.

"Looking for what?"

McCoy's shoulders bobbed dismissively. “For whatever. Look, I’ve been sitting on this damn bed for a several hours waiting for you to wake up. I couldn't find the remote to the holoscreen, so I had to find something to do.”

For a moment, Kirk peered at McCoy and was sure that the man was insane. He rushed to sit up and punch the idiot doctor in his face, but a sharp pain splitting across his skull gave him pause. He fell back on to the bed, shutting his eyes tight, one hand gripping his head, as the pain dulled from a searing to a low throb. “Owww.”

“Yeah, I should've warned ya about trying to sit up too fast. The antidote is still working through your system. It's gonna be awhile before you'll be able to move about without any pain or dizziness.”

“Antidote? What are you talking about?”

“Oh. Well, you see Jim, Mr. Farrell came bursting into my room about two hours ago crying that you weren't breathing. Turns out someone poisoned ya,” McCoy said.

Kirk opened one eye. “What do you mean poisoned?”

“Just that. Slow acting stuff so I don't know precisely when it was given to you. More than likely it was during your breakfast. Or could have been when we were having coffee. That would explain why our waitress fucked off like she did.”

“Somebody bribed her to poison me...”

With more care, Kirk tried once again to sit up. When it didn't feel like white-hot daggers were stabbing his brain, he relaxed. He clutched his forehead and rested that elbow on his knee and looked around.

Underneath him, there was a hint of red in the bedspread. A thought entered his mind as it occurred to him that he was sitting where the small brown furry creature had lain. He groaned and tried not to be sick.

McCoy must have read his mind. “Yeah. I don't know what that was, but I had Mr. Farrell get rid of it. Looked like someone brought it up and split open its belly on your bed.” There was a pause and he added, “You're making all kinds friends here, Jim.”

“Where is Mr. Farrell?” Kirk asked, ignoring that last remark.

There was a sound of heavy footsteps. “Here, Sir.”

Kirk looked up at the worried face of his guard. He lowered his hand and sat up as much as he could. The higher his head went, the more it hurt.

“I gave you an assignment. Report,” Kirk said.

Mr. Farrell saluted smartly. “I did as you instructed and I couldn't find out anything. The stranger just seemed to wander around the hotel aimlessly. He did stop and talk to people, but they were just people he passed in the halls. None of the conversations were long and mostly was him complimenting someone's shirt or shoes. Very unimportant stuff. After a while, he just went to the tenth floor and into a room. He didn't come out, so I came here to report to you. That's when I found you on the bed not breathing and fetched Dr. McCoy.”

“Well, that was a waste of time.” Kirk licked his lips and rubbed the back of his neck.

Mr. Farrell shrugged. “Sorry, Sir.”

Kirk shook his head and stopped as pain shot down his spine. “You did your job.” He paused for a moment to look at Mr. Farrell. The man's face was like a blank canvas but his eyes were red and slightly puffy. “Did you really burst into McCoy's room crying?”

Mr. Farrell drew back, frowning. “No, Sir.”

Kirk looked at McCoy, who grinned but said nothing, then back to Mr. Farrell. “Of course not. You are a professional after all.”

The large man gave a curt nod of his head. Kirk bit down on his lower lip to keep from laughing. He would need to give his guard a raise for sure. He looked around the room and towards the window. He could see snow capped trees outside and behind them the setting sun. “Shit. What time is it? The rehearsal ─”

“Has been canceled,” McCoy said. Kirk opened his mouth to ask McCoy just who in the fuck did he think he was canceling his wedding rehearsal but stopped. Instead, he shook his head and sighed.

“That's the smartest thing that been done today I think,” Kirk said. The weight of the day's events was catching up with him. His whole body felt ready to collapse. “Bones... Maybe I should call off the wedding.”

“Good idea. I'll get started packing,” McCoy chirped, rising from the bed.

Kirk gaped. He hadn't expected that. “Hey!” Kirk reached out and grasped McCoy's arm, pulling him back down on the bed. “What? You're not going to try to talk me out of it?”

McCoy's brow wrinkled and he frowned. “Why in the fuck would I do that?”

“Because...” Kirk floundered for a reason. Not finding a good one, he reverted to history. “Because you were the same asshole who two years ago convinced me to meet up with a secret admirer, telling me that I had nothing to lose.”

“Yeah, but that was then this is now. Things around here are getting out of hand. Three attempts have been made on your life in two days. Hell, not even two days. A day and a half. Spock has holed himself up in his room and there's some woman that he may or may not be having an affair with. Plus some weirdo seems to know just a little too much about you and what' going on.”

Kirk stared at McCoy dumbfounded and turned to Mr. Farrell. “Is this what you think?”

“I just don't want to see you get hurt, Sir.”

With a groan, Kirk laid back down on the bed. So this was it? After two years it was over. Kirk felt his chest tighten a little. He didn't want it to be over, but canceling the wedding would be the safest course of action. If he did that, he and Spock's relationship would never be the same again.

“Alright," He held out a hand. "Someone give me my PADD." Mr. Farrell handed him a PADD and Kirk set to work sending out a message to everyone in the wedding party and then some.

The first person to respond was Amanda. Oh, what a shame. Kirk's jaw clenched. He could practically hear the condescending smirk.

The next message was from Sarek. I see, was all it said. Well, Mr. Ambassador, now you know I wasn't cut out to marry your son after all. I'm sure you're as pleased as your cunt of a wife.

The next bunch of messages was from the crew. Every one of them whined about their leave and what about the party that night. No surprise there. Then came a series of messages from the hotel, the carters, and other staff hired for the wedding. They all expressed their sympathy at the news and want to make sure Kirk remembered their no refund policies.

In the end, the only person who didn't respond was Spock. The tightness in Kirk's chest intensified and there was a sharp pricking behind his eyes. He tossed the PADD aside.

"I’ll tell the guests in the morning, but it's done."

"You want me to pack your things, sir?” Mr. Farrell asked.

Kirk stared at the ceiling. "No. No sense in pissing everyone by canceling leave. I'll just wait it out."

“Anything you need, Jim?” McCoy's voice was soft and it made the pain in Kirk's chest increase tenfold.

“Yeah,” Kirk said. “Leave me alone.”

 

***

 

Kirk was laying on his stomach, shirtless, on a fresh mattress. The hotel had run out of rooms to put him in. He was propped up on his elbows as he watched the holoscreen in anticipation of what was about to happen. He was watching “Prefects,” the reality show about the Empire's police force inflicting harsh justice on the scrum of the Terran homeworld. Right now an Andorian male was running while two uniformed officers gave chase. Kirk just knew that someone what going to sustain a head injury.

That was the best part, only this time Kirk couldn't bring himself to cheer the officers on. Even when they tackled the alien and tased him, Kirk stared at the screen morosely. He rolled over on his back and lifted his beer to his lips, finishing it off in several chugs. It was bitter and cheap but so was life. Best to swallow it as fast as you could and move on.

He dropped the bottled on the floor listening to it clink against the other empties. He then reached out with a questing hand and grab a fresh one out of the cooler next to him.

He finished that one off too, tossing it down. He rolled back on his stomach and went back to his show. Kirk started to reach for another beer as he heard a knock on his door.

“Go away,” he shouted. The knocking came again louder and Kirk growled. He stumbled off the bed and lumbered toward the door. The knocking continued. Kirk fumbled with the lock and hoped it was one of his idiot crew. He wanted a reason to kill someone, and he could as count on them.

When the door opened it showed the tall form of the man in the dark suit. He smiled at Kirk as he lowered his raised fist. His teeth gleamed behind his beard. “Good evening, Captain. How are you?” Kirk stared open mouth at the man as he pushed his way into the room.

“What do you want?” Kirk growled.

“To check on you. I heard you had canceled the wedding.”

“What's it to you?”

“I am just saddened to hear it,” The man said. He frowned looking at the floor. “You know, the commander is not doing well at the present.”

"So?" Kirk replied. He glared at the man trying to hide the sudden rush of emotions inside. The man peered back at him, his expression sad. It twisted Kirk’s heart. He dropped his gaze and asked, "What's wrong with him?"

“I am afraid I can't tell you. It's not my place. What I can tell you, is that he needs you... Desperately,” the man said. His voice was soft and Kirk looked back up into his face. The man's expression was grave.

“What's supposed to mean?” Kirk was awash with rage again. He didn't know who this man was but he never felt so frustrated with a single person in his life...

Except for Spock. It dawned on Kirk that like Sarek, something about this man reminded him of Spock. Kirk stepped forward tilting his head to one as he took a closer look at the man.“You know Spock personally, don't you?” Kirk asked.

“Possibly, but that is unimportant right now. What is important is that Spock is ill and you have to help him.” Abruptly, he pulled Kirk to him and leaned down so that they were face to face. Close up, he looked pale and panicked. A chill went down Kirk's spine. “Captain, I must implore you. Go to his room and quickly. I don't know how much time he has left.”

“What are you talking about? What do you want me to do?” Kirk asked.

“It will become apparent to you once you get there, trust me.”

“Look,” Kirk started. “Spock and I are over. It's done. He made his choice and I'm moving on...”

The man stared at him and then pulled back cursing. “That idiot,” he hissed. “He never told you.” Kirk looked at him blankly. “Of course he didn't. That wouldn't be the Vulcan thing to do.” The man licked his lips. “Captain, I need you to understand something.”

“What's that?”

“Spock is not in his right mind, but know this. He loves you and more than that he needs you. You're the only one that can save him. Go to him.”

“And if I don't?”

“Simply put? He will die.”

The words were spoken bluntly and they hit Kirk hard. His heart was hammering and he struggled to draw air into his lungs. He brought both fists to his face and shook his head. “No. This is a trick.”

“No trick Captain. Spock will die unless you go to him tonight. Please. I beg you.” He grabbed one of Kirk's hands Forcing it open. Something was pushed into it. It was a key. The numbers 610 were etched on it. Kirk stared at it, his body shaking.

He looked the man in the dark suit. “Where did you get this?”

“It doesn't matter. What matters is that you can save the Commander. I know he has hurt you, but let that go. Even if it's just for the night.” He walked past Kirk towards the door. “I will leave you here, Captain. I trust you will make the right decision.”

Kirk started after him but the man gave him a hard shove, knocking Kirk to the floor. Before he could stand again the door shut. When Kirk opened it, he peered around the hall. The man was nowhere to be seen.

Kirk was once more alone, left with a million question and a little frightened. He looked at the key in his hand and his mind raced.

Was Spock really dying? And if so what was he supposed to do about it?

One way to find out...

 

***

 

The elevator stopped on the sixth floor and once more Kirk walked through the empty and silent hallway. He had half expected that Vulcan bitch to be waiting for him at Spock's door, a gaggle of armed Vulcans behind her. It was a relief when he reached room 610 and no one was around.

He pulled the key from his pocket and fitted it into the lock. There was a click as the tumblers turned. Inside the room, there was an odd sound of movement. Kirk frowned before turning the knob. He felt like an idiot for coming here, but he needed to know if Spock was all right.

“What are you doing?”

Kirk let go of the doorknob taking a step back. He glanced over to find the Vulcan woman eying him. He puffed out his chest at her. “I don't think it's any of your concern.”

She raised a slim eyebrow at him. “Is that so, Captain?”

“I don't know who in the fuck you think you are but Spock is mine. So fuck off.“

The Vulcan woman seemed to consider his words then finally nodded. “Spock said you were like this.” Her tone gave no indication if this was a good or a bad thing. “He thinks it is endearing.” She turned and started back towards her room.

Kirk peered after her dumbfounded. “Wait!” he called. She stopped and turned around. “Is that really what he thinks of me?”

“Indeed. In fact, Spock thinks quite highly of you. When discussing you with others, he behaved in a most un-Vulcan fashion and bragged. I was not impressed.”

“You're just jealous.”

“Jealous? Of what? I do not want Spock.”

Kirk snorted. “That’s not what the papers say, lady.”

“The papers only know half the story, Captain. I assure you that I am not who they make me out to be. If you care about Spock at all, you will not let your head be turned by lies.”

The sneer on Kirk's face slipped away. He averted his eyes and scuffed at the carpet with the toe of his shoes. “I didn't think...” he started, but the words died in his mouth. “I don't know what I thought,” he said finally.

“That is fair. Now excuse me, I am retiring for the night. If you go into Spock's room, please be kind. He is not well.”

“What's wrong with him?”

A look of uncertainty passed over her face. “It is not my place to say.”

Kirk's shoulders slumped as he leaned against the wall. “You're the second person to tell me that.”

She cocked her head to one side. “Who was the other?"

“Some guy that has been following me around. He wears a dark suit. Has long hair and a full beard.”

The woman muttered: “He is here?” before she stalked off to her room.

“Wait! You know him?” Kirk rushed after her only to have the door slammed in his face.

He placed his palms on her door. “Fuck you,” He shouted through the wood.

The sound of a door creaking open reminded Kirk why he had come to the sixth floor in the first place. He turned towards the sound. Spock's door was open. Moving closer, Kirk craned his neck to peer in. The room was pitch black, stretching out before him like an abyss.

“Spock?” He called out. Silence answered him. He looked around the hallway with its bright lights and inviting cream-colored walls, compared to the darkness within the Vulcan’s room. He could come back later, during the day and see Spock then. A low keening from within the room gave him pause.

A chill ran through his body and he fought the urge to run. Shaking off his fear, Kirk stepped into the room. He stretched his arms out in front of him as he moved, waiting for his eye to adjust to the gloom. A cold breeze blew through an open window, moving the curtains about. The moon shone into the room, giving a faint light. As his eye became attuned to the darkness, Kirk started to pick up details.

The window wasn't open. It was broken. Tiny glass shards glittered on the carpet in the moonlight. Paintings that should have been hanging up on the wall, lay on the floor broken and torn. The lamps were smashed. In the center of the room, a coffee table lay on its side in pieces, cracked down the center, its legs were torn off. A small loveseat sofa had been thrown against the wall. It was in several parts, tattered, and its cushions gone.

Kirk took in the carnage, in awe. What had done this? Not Spock. It couldn't have been him. The low keening came again from the bedroom. Kirk pressed his back against a wall and took a quick peek through the doorway. All he saw was the bed, stripped of all its sheets, blankets, and pillows.

“Spock?” Kirk called again.

“James.?” Spock's voice came out weak, and raspy. With caution, Kirk headed into the bedroom. At first, he didn't see Spock, but when he did, he stood and stared.

Spock was hunched into a pile of blankets, pillows, clothes, all wadded up in a corner. He was half-naked, shivering, his thin arms hugging his slight frame. Even in the low light, scratches and cuts could be seen on his body. It was obvious that Spock hadn't bathed in days. His hair was greasy and ungroomed. He hadn't shaved and a dark beard covered his jaw and cheeks, nearly the length of his goatee. His lips were cracked and there was dried blood at the corners. The Vulcan peered up at Kirk, his dark eyes wide.

“James? Is that really you?”

Kirk nodded, too bewildered to speak. The pile rustled as Spock tried to stand. He shook horribly, falling back down. He lay there for several seconds, before attempting it again.

When the Vulcan finally managed to stand on his two feet and shuffle over to Kirk. He was still trembling and his breathing was heavy and erratic. He reached out a hand, his two fingers extended toward Kirk's face.

“James. My T'hai'la. You should not be here,” he breathed out. He stumbled and fell forward. Kirk was just able to catch him and both men went to their knees.

This close to Spock, Kirk could smell him. The scent of his body odor and breath were atrocious. It made Kirk gag. He wanted to drop Spock and move back a few feet, but he held his breath and held Spock as best he could. With effort, he pulled them both to their feet. Spock's head lolled a bit in Kirk’s arms, his eyes peering off into some far corner of the room.

“What’s the matter with you, Spock?” Kirk asked. Spock said nothing. “Spock answer me,” Kirk hissed. When Spock remained silent Kirk huffed. “Okay. You stay here and I’ll call Dr. McCoy.”

Spock's body tensed. He buried his face into Kirk's chest. “No! Please do not. Please leave me be.”

“Why?”

Spock's head righted and he looked Kirk dead on. “I do not want you to see me like this.” He fell forward and slipped his arms around Kirk's waist. His grip was tighter and he shivered. “Hmm, James, my T'hai'la. You smell so sweet and you are so soft.”

“Spock, tell me what is wrong?” Kirk demanded, but he could tell Spock wasn't listening. The Vulcan had buried his face into Kirk's neck and was licking the skin there. His tongue was rough and dry. The feel of it made Kirk's breath catch in his throat. He heard Spock emit a low growl as the Vulcan squeezed him close.

Suddenly, he was no longer holding Spock, but Spock was holding him and he was walking them back towards the pile in the corner. In a panic, Kirk dug in his heels stopping them both.

Spock pulled back, looking into Kirk's face, his features marked with doubts. “You are rejecting me?”

“What are you talking about, Spock? You’re sick. Let me go get McCoy!” Spock didn't answer and was now staring down at the floor, looking completely devastated. Kirk gritted his teeth and brought one hand up, striking the Vulcan across the face.

Spock's head whipped up, his teeth bared. He threw Kirk to ground. “Ungrateful thing,” he snarled. “I gave you food. I assembled a safe place for us consummate, and give you my affections. Yet you have rejected me and struck me.” The Vulcan moved about madly, his arms flailing and he pulled at his hair. “There must be someone else.” Spock crouched down on the floor in front of Kirk and leaned over him so that their nose touched. “Who is it? I have a right to know.”

“I don't know what you are talking about,” Kirk replied.

Spock slapped him hard across the mouth. “Do not lie to me. It is bad enough that you humiliate me and refuse to tell me who you have chosen to replace me.”

“Humiliate you?” Kirk kicked Spock in the chest causing Spock to land hard on his back. “You have it all backwards because you're the one that's humiliated me. You're the one that chose another, not me, and now you're acting like a goddamn lunatic.”

Spock looked puzzled as he sat up. “I do not ─”

“Oh, you don't?” Kirk got to his knees. “I'll find a paper and show you. Pictures of you and some whore that you brought from home.” His chest heaved as he glared at Spock.

Spock sat in silence, his eyebrows coming together. “T'Pring?” He whispered after a pause. “No, I did not. Not with her.” He took to his knees and crawled to Kirk. “I swear to you. I did not dishonor you.” He fell to the floor on his face, a sob breaking through his words. “I swear on the ancient lands of my father, I did not shame you.” Spock laid there, prone on his belly, his body shaking.

This was more than Kirk could stand. Spock was insane and he did not have the patience to deal with it. Kirk stood and went to the door.

“Wait,” Spock cried out. Kirk turned to look at him. He had pushed himself up on his elbows and looked at Kirk as if his world was ending. “I have no right to ask, but please stay. Forgive me and my trespasses.”

Kirk shut his eyes. He didn't want this. He had wanted just to see Spock, calm, serene Spock. Yet he was dealing with a sick, deranged fiance, a canceled wedding, being shot at, poisoned, threatened with dead animals ─ Wait...

“Spock?”

“Yes, T'hai'la?” Spock's eyes were wide and hopeful.

Kirk stepped back into the room and knelt down before him. “Spock, you said that you brought me food. What did you mean by that?”

“Just what I said. I hunted down some animals in the forest: a bird and a small mammal. I brought them to your rooms, though I had to find you first. Each time, you weren’t there, so I left them for you. Did you enjoy them? I know they weren't much, but they were the best game I could find.”

“They weren't threats then?”

Spock's head tilted to one side frowning. “Threats? No, Jim. Food.”

“You were seriously trying to feed me?”

Spock nodded. “Yes. To demonstrate my worthiness as a mate. Showing that I could provide for you.” Spock pushed himself up and sat cross-legged. “You see, James, ” he pointed toward the pile in the corner,“I built a place for us to rest and copulate. It's only exposed on the one side, so we shall able to see anything that could harm us.”

Kirk could almost feel Spock's pride. “You built a nest?”

“Yes.” Spock scooted in close. “It is my duty to provide a place for us, so that we may mate without interruption. Does it not please you? I can try to make it bigger, but it may take some time.” Spock frowned, his slanted brows knotted.

“You're courting me?”

Spock shook his head. “No. I have already courted you. I am currently establishing that I can provide you food and shelter, so you will bond with me.” Spock reached out slowly and touched Kirk's hand with two fingers. The Vulcan looked back his expression uncertain. “Will you bond with me?”

Kirk sat back on his heels and blew out a long breath. “What in the fuck does that mean, Spock?” He rubbed at his eyes. He was exhausted and the cold air blowing into the room was starting to get to him. He shivered.

Spock must have seen, because he stood and moved over to the pile, pulling a blanket from it. He came back and wrapped it around Kirk's shoulders, before setting down beside him. He moved his hand back over Kirk's.

“It means to join, to become one, James. That is what I am asking you to do. Join with me and guide me through...” He trailed off and averted his eyes. “My time,” he said softly.

“What?” Kirk asked. Kirk couldn't grasp what Spock was talking about. How far gone was the Vulcan? He decided to go with along Spock’s mental tirade, attempt to soothe him.

Swallowing hard, Kirk leaned forward on his knees, taking Spock's face in hand. Spock's eyes darted back to Kirk, his expression surprised and lusty.

“James... I burn,” he whispered.

Kirk nodded. “I don't know what that means, but that's all right.” Spock tipped his head to one side, confusion eating at his features. Kirk just shook his head. “Don't think, just... I don't know. What do we do now?”

“Will you bond with me?

“If that's what needs to be done, yes I will.”

Spock stood up, pulling Kirk to his feet. Once again, Kirk found himself being led to the pile in the corner, but this time he allowed it. Spock pulled them both down into the mess of cloth. The blanket over Kirk’s shoulders was pushed away and Spock began to tug at Kirk's shirt.

His hands shook and he fumbled with the buttons. Soon, Kirk shoved them out of the way and removed the shirt himself. In an instant, Spock buried himself in the crook of Kirk's neck, his hands digging into Kirk’s back, his teeth into Kirk's shoulder. He bit down hard and there was a popping as Spock pierced the skin. He didn't just bite, but gnawed. It was all Kurt could do not to scream, but instead gritted his teeth and whimpered.

Something hot and wet trickled down his body. When Spock finally let go and he could see the Vulcan’s face. Spock's mouth and beard were covered with his blood. Spock licked his lips and the surrounding hair, purring as he did.

“James. T'hai’la t'nash-veh. Taluhk nash-veh k'dular.”

Kirk stared at Spock. He only understood a portion of what Spock said. He was too afraid to ask about the rest. The wound on his shoulder throbbed and he resisted the urge to raise a hand to it. Instead, he ignored it and the feeling of his own blood running down his chest.

Spock stroked Kirk's hair peering at him serenely. It seemed that all Spock's fear and agitation were gone, leaving him more subdued. His face was still eerie. Spock did not appear to be stable, just in a lull before his next fit. He also looked hungry. The hand in Kirk’s hair moved down to touch his face.

Spock said something else in Vulcan, but Kirk didn't understand it at all. He just sat there, a feeling of helplessness bubbling up inside him. What had he done?

Spock pulled back his hand, his serenity disappearing. “I need...” he began.

Kirk cursed internally. Touch-telepath Kirk. Get it together. He flashed a smile and took Spock's hand, pressing the digits to his face. “I know,” he said forcing a calm he didn't feel into his voice. “It's all right.”

Spock seemed to hesitate, but nodded and started moving his fingers around Kirk's face in a familiar way to perform a mind meld.

Kirk wasn't sure if that was the best thing. While Kirk loved mind melds, he didn't know much about how the process worked. If they did a meld with Spock the way he was, would it affect him?

He looked into Spock's eyes. Behind the lust, hunger, and layers of madness, Kirk saw his first officer, his lover and the one person in the universe he knew he could always count on. This was the man that had seduced him with new boots and sappy love notes. This was the man who on the floor of the ship's observation deck had begged for his affections.

A warmth washed over Kirk along with tranquility. Suddenly, the pain was gone from his shoulder as Kirk cupped Spock's face. He leaned forward their foreheads touching. As one they both let out a sigh.

“Okay, Spock.” Kirk pressed his lips to the Vulcan’s. As they kissed, he was aware of Spock commencing with the meld, but it was different from before. The way their minds corrected it seemed as if the ground had dropped out from under him. He clung to the Vulcan, the only thing in his mind Kirk had to hang on to.

Down deeper and deeper they went, their thoughts and emotion wrapping around one another like ropes. They pulled on him and chained him to Spock, just as they seemed to be binding Spock to him. As they fell further into each other, Kirk realized he could no longer tell where he ended and where Spock began.

To join, to become one.

//We are one//

Kirk felt a searing heat pulsing through him and on some level, he was aware of cold winds blowing around him. As the cold touched his skin it made the burning worse. It beat down to his core into his groin. He was growing hard. There was a moan, though Kirk wasn't sure if it had come from him or Spock.

//We burn. We need//

//We know. We give.//

The kiss broke and in a haze, Kirk felt the hand slip away from his face, yet the connection remained intact. His arms slipped around Spock's body. Somehow the remainder of his clothes were pulled from his body and before him Spock was nude.

His lean frame was bruised and it looked as if he had been digging into his arms and legs. Between his thighs, Spock's penis was thick and heavy. It arched up pressing against his flat stomach, a drop of fluid sitting at the slit. Its milky color contrasted with the dark emerald green of the glans. Spock's twin ridges were flared, fat and full. A long dark vein beat along the shaft.

Kirk reached out a hand. “Let me touch it.” At first, Spock leaned away, his expression unreadable. Not to be deterred Kirk leaned closer, his outreaching hand grasping.

This time Spock did not move away. He grabbed Kirk hand in his own and placed in on his cock. Kirk ran his fingers over the member, its velvety softness hot, and firm in his hand.

There was a gasp. Spock's eyes squeezed shut, his teeth biting into his lower lips. Kirk moved his hand back, but Spock held it tight. “James, if you could...” Kirk nodded and wrapped his hand around the shaft. Flicking his wrist he brought his fist up, stopping at the bottom ridge. He brought it back down slowly, then back up.

He set a languid pace his eyes on Spock's face. Spock hissed and whimpered as Kirk jerked him off. “No. It's not enough.” Spock pulled Kirk's hand away. “Use your mouth.”

Kirk wasn't sure if he was okay with that. Spock's penis was fully engorged, longer and harder than Kirk had ever seen it before. He wasn't even sure it would fit in his mouth.

His mind was made up for him when Spock let go of his hand and grabbed his head. He pushed Kirk down on his cock. It rubbed against his cheek and over his lips. It's musky odor filled his nose and Spock pleas of, “Open your mouth” filled his ears.

With some hesitation, Kirk opened his lips. Immediately Spock's pushed his penis inside. It stretched Kirk's mouth open, filling it completely as Spock forced it in. The tip of it touched the back of Kirk’s throat choking him. There was sigh from Spock and he started moving Kirk head up.

There was a measure of relief as Spock's cock unplugged Kirk mouth for a second. It was gone when Spock shoved Kirk's head back down. His cheeks bulged and ached to take in all of Spock's length. He struggled to breathe with each stroke. His lips stung from the strain.

Spock's jerked Kirk's head up and down, his breathing fast and ragged in Kirk's ears. The assault on his mouth was pitiless. Even so, Kirk did not pull back and or try to fight. An appalling need filled him and he craved the brutally. With each downward push, he swallowed hard, hoping for more.

He got his wish when Spock came. Thick hot streams of semen poured into Kirk's mouth. He tried to swallow it, but it was coming too fast. He gagged and choked as Spock held his head down. Semen spilled out from his lips back down Spock shaft on to his balls. Tears ran down Kirk's face and mixed with the semen.

Finally, Spock let go. Kirk pushed himself up, sniffling and choking. He wiped the come away from his lips with the back of a hand. Before him, Spock stared at him his eyes wide.

“James... I burn,” Spock said again. This time Kirk understood. A fire was raging under his skin. He savored its heat, welcoming it, wishing for it to devour him entirely.

He gave Spock a lazy smile and licked the jizz off his hand. “Come here, Spock.”

Spock moved forward, pressing his lips to Kirk's. He lapped at the corners of Kirk's mouth and bit the flesh of his bottom lip. He pushed against Kirk's body, leaving Kirk feeling unbalanced. They both fell backward, with Spock on top.

Spock laid flush over Kirk and more heat flowed through Kirk's body. Spock's cock was full and hard again pressing into Kirk's hip. Kirk marveled at how fast Spock was able to recover from his climax as Spock started to rut against him. He responded by lifting his hips, pushing back with his own hardened cock.

Their lips continued to slide over one another. Kirk's softened, fitting over Spock's effortlessly. Spock kisses were demanding and hungry. His tongue licked at Kirk's mouth begging for entrance as his beard scraped and scratched Kirk's chin. Spock's hands caressed and cradled Kirk's body, nails dragging across his skin as if they intend to permanent grooves in the flesh. Kirk pulled back for air, gasping in a breath before Spock was back on top of him. The Vulcan's tongue found its way into his mouth and Kirk moaned a welcome.

//We give. We take. We love. We need.//

The kiss was over too soon leaving Kirk breathless and dizzy. Spock's mouth had moved again to the wound on Kirk's shoulder, licking it gently. It was a soft, soothing action and Kirk cooed under the Vulcan’s attention.

//We are well?//

//Yes, but we want more.//

Calloused fingers caressed Kirk’s body and lips pressed to his mouth once more. He tasted blood and shivered, his senses inflamed. He bit down on Spock's lower lip, pulling at it, chewing it, only letting go after hearing Spock growl. It was low and threatening. Kirk only giggled, his excitement mounting.

He shifted his head and nuzzled Spock's shoulder. He put his mouth to it, sucking on it, savoring the taste of the Vulcan's skin. He ran his tongue in lazy circles listening to Spock purr. Then his teeth nipped at the spot, before sinking into the flesh.

There was a gasp and hiss of pain, but Kirk didn't let go. He chewed at the flesh, much the same way Spock had done his shoulder. In Kirk's ear, Spock hissed and snarled, but never pulled away. He pressed himself into Kirk, taking Kirk's shoulder back into his mouth, sucking at the injury.

Spock’s weight was heavy as if he would crush Kirk, but the feel of it was comforting. Kirk pulled Spock to him, digging his fingernails into the Vulcan’s back, burying them into the skin. He bit harder into Spock's shoulder until he could taste blood. He lapped at the wound, relishing in the strong bitter flavor.

The pain in his own shoulder was still there, but it was overpowered by pleasure and joy. The two men licked each other’s injuries, blissfully unaware of anything else.

Simple uncomplicated thoughts ran through Kirk's mind as he licked and sucked on Spock's shoulder.

//Good. T'hai'la. Love. Want. Need. Give. Warm. Mine. Ours.//

Finally, Spock's shoulder was pulled from Kirk's hungry mouth as the Vulcan propped himself up on one arm. His mouth and beard were covered in more of Kirk's blood. His dark eyes were bright with the pupils blown wide. He emitted a low purr as he bent low to nuzzle Kirk's face, smearing it with blood. Then he grabbed a handful of Kirk's hair, pulling his head back and exposing his throat.

“Mine,” Spock growled.

There was a severe pain where Spock held him and Kirk puled softly at that. He reached up with his own hand and mimicked Spock's actions, entangling his fingers into the dark strands. He gave them a hard tug.

“Mine,” Kirk echoed.

Above him, Spock smiled. It was a small thing, as he barely moved his lips, but to Kirk, it was like seeing the sun.

“Yes,” Spock said. “We are thine. Thou is mine. From here on we will always be touching, even when apart and nothing will ever come between us. We are one.”

“We are one,” Kirk repeated. He brought his free hand around and held two fingers to Spock. He trembled when Spock kiss them with his lip, before letting go of Kirk, to press his own fingers to them.

Kirk's hand slipped out of Spock's hair when Spock met his lips again. As they kissed Spock push Kirk's legs apart with his knees. Kirk helped, opening them wide, wrapping one around the Vulcan’s waist. Spock's cock pressed into him, demanding entrance. Kirk's body was inflamed, yearning to be penetrated, every muscle, every nerve enlivened, pushed to the edge of sanity.

“Lube,” Kirk breathed, pulling back from the kiss. “We need lube.” The ache in his body increased and he hoped that Spock had been sane enough to remember the more basic essentials when building his love nest.

The look on the Vulcan’s face told him that he hadn't. Kirk closed his eyes with a whimper. Between the press of their bodies, his cock pulsed in time with his heartbeat.

“Blood is reasonably slick,” Spock told him.

“What?” Kirk opened his eyes.

The look on Spock's face was thoughtful and absolutely insane. “We could use blood,” the Vulcan said.

Kirk should have been horrified and he knew it, but Spock's madness bled into his mind and all he could do was laugh. “We could.”

The bleeding for both wounds had stopped, but the two of them made short work of reopening the gashes with their teeth. Taking one hand, Spock wipe first at his shoulder then at Kirk's, the red and green mixing in his palm making an ugly brown.

Kirk unwrapped his leg from Spock's body, as Spock moved his hand down between them. A finger slid itself down his cleft, circling itself around his entrance. It pressed against it teasing at first and then it pushed in.

Dizziness overcame Kirk as the digit started fucking him, slowly picking up speed as it moved back and forth. Oh, gods, it felt good, but it wasn't enough. He lifted up his hips and rocked them. He pushed himself down on the invading finger and groaned openly.

The finger slid out and came back with a second one. They opened and stretched Kirk out as he bucked and writhed against them. “More Spock. Fuck me damn you,” Kirk said. His words came out broken as he fought for air.

Spock paused, his gaze locked on Kirk's face. Kirk felt himself burn under that stare. It engulfed him plunging him deeper into his lust fueled madness. “Fuck me,” he said again, rolling his hips, grinding himself on the fingers that were still buried inside him. The Vulcan seemed to be frozen his dark eyes on Kirk, wide and hungry. His lips were pulled back over his teeth sucking air through them, hissing and growling.

“Spock,” Kirk moaned. He was lost now, gone deep within his own hunger and desire to be possessed. At once Spock moved, the spell over him seemly broken.

He pulled his fingers from Kirk's hole and Kirk thought that he would die as he sought to comprehend the sudden emptiness inside him. Spock gaze was on him again and it alone seemed to fill him.

Kirk trembled and squirmed, turning his head to one side. A hand came up and turned his face back. Spock's tongue flicked over his lips. “My mate... Do not turn from me.”

Kirk gave a nod of his head, his voice failing him. How could he disobey his mate? He couldn't. He wouldn't and he kept his eyes on Spock as he lifted himself up.

What was left of their blood, Spock smeared on to his cock. Kirk licked his lips, watching Spock stroke himself with his bloody fist. His desire was at its peak and he reached up pulling Spock back down on top of him

//We need. We want. Now, take us now.//

There was growl from Spock as he pushed Kirk’s leg open as far as they would go.

//Yes. Now.//

Kirk keened, lifting his hips up once more, his arms around Spock's shoulders. There was pressure at his opening and a slow white-hot burning as Spock stretched him open. He didn't wait or pause but pressed in harsh and ravenous. Kirk felt tears in his eyes, but he begged Spock to keep going. Inside his head, there was a chorus of voices crying out with him.

Once he was all the way in Spock paused, breathing hard, his mouth open.

“T'hai'la...” he breathed. He ran his mouth along the line of Kirk's jaw resting it at his ear. He remained motionless and Kirk wanted to scream so deep was his need. Then Spock pulled back before slamming into Kirk. It was both excruciating and gratifying as the Vulcan heaved into to him, filling him completely. Kirk wrapped both legs around Spock's body, weeping and crying out for more. To his joy Spock obeyed, assaulting his body with each bucking of his hips.

It was over quickly and there was a pulsing inside Kirk as Spock came a second time. Kirk moaned as his channel filled with hot semen. His head lolled on the ground as he fought to catch his breath. “You're still hard,” he panted out.

“I am,” Spock said.

“Good. Fuck me more.”

Spock purred loudly before his hips drove into Kirk. His thrusts were more brutal than before, leaving Kirk thrashing underneath him, sobbing and gasping. Deep within the nest, Kirk was consumed. His body was absolutely surrounded, by the pillows, the blankets, by Spock. Every part of him was being touched, caressed, pounded, exhausted.

Inside him, Spock's cock churned and beat. It filled Kirk wholly, every stroke touching something deep inside him sending trails of fire through his body. In Kirk's mind, Spock devoured his very soul, leaving nothing but a tongue lolling mindlessness. Together they were driven by one thing: to join.

Spock's lips were pressed against Kirk's ear whispering to him. His words were broken, coming out in breathless sobs, but still, his tongue managed to created obscenities that only fueled Kirk's willingness.

Kirk's hips moved in time with Spock's thrusts as he started to babble indecencies of his own. There was nothing left of him, just a sweet fervent need. His body was slick with sweat, running down his skin. Between the press of their bodies, his cock twitched, the friction of their bodies coaxing it towards its own climax. Kirk wailed under Spock, begging for release as the Vulcan's teeth scraped down his neck touching his pulse.

Kirk could not go on like this. He was coiled so tightly, every muscle like a spring. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. He needed to come. He had to soon or die.

Once more there was a beating inside him as Spock came a third time. As more of Spock's semen pumped into Kirk, with a silent cry and shut eyes, Kirk came with him.

His semen splattered all over his and Spock's bellies, making their already slick bodies glide together with little effort. Inside him, Spock's member twitched, still hard, hungry and insatiable.

“T'hai'la,” Spock said, his voice rolling in Kirk's head like a wave. It crashed over Kirk’s consciousness and for a moment he couldn't breathe. No longer was Spock's weight a comfort Kirk sought but something that threatened to smother him where he lay. He began to fight for air. He wanted the Vulcan off him and he endeavored to push Spock away. His arms were weak however and they fell to his side useless.

Kirk lay there, feeling helpless and terrified, dizziness taking hold of him. He let loose a sob, the sensation that he might pass out overwhelming him when Spock's hand came up and touched his face.

// Safe//

The feeling of suffocation melted away and Kirk's body stilled. Spock caressed his face with even gentle strokes. Kirk relaxed and smiled as Spock slid out of him and laid down beside him

//We still want, but for now we rest//

//Yes, rest.//

Kirk was exhausted and his eyes fluttered shut. Next to him, Spock's warmth poured into his body. A blanket was draped over him and lips pressed to his forehead.

“I cherish thee, my bondmate,” Spock said.

//Cherish. Love. Treasure.//

Kirk sighed and snuggling close to Spock, drifted off to sleep. 

  


***

  


 Kirk awoke on his stomach, his head turned to one side with the sun shining into his eyes. He was also aware of Spock's dick buried in his ass. The Vulcan snorted and rutted against him, his arms wrapped around Kirk's body. Kirk let out a groan and buried his head in a nearby pillow.

Spock rocked into him and a hand wrapped itself around Kirk's cock, stroking it in time with Spock's movement. Kirk came with a mewling sound. There was a pulsing as Spock erupted inside him.

“Good morning, K'diwa,” Spock said, pulling the pillow off of Kirk's head. Kirk groaned again, shutting his eyes tight. There was a pounding between his eyes, a buzzing in his head and every part of him ached. His shoulder throbbed.

Spock moved off of Kirk and Kirk felt cold now without the physical contact. He pulled a blanket tighter around him and snuggled down into the nest. He started to drift back to sleep when the blanket was pulled away.

Kirk growled and he opened his eyes as Spock pulled him into his lap. Kirk tried to lay against Spock's chest, but the Vulcan held him upright.

“Hold still,” Spock whispered. A warm wet cloth was pressed against Kirk's skin, running it over his belly and chest. The warmth did not stay long as the cold air chilled the water. Kirk shivered.

“Almost done,” Spock said. He ran the cloth down Kirk's back and between his ass cheeks. Kirk winced as it touched his hole. It was tender from use and he sucked air through his teeth as Spock washed it.

Spock set the cloth aside and picked up a towel, using it to dry Kirk off with a light touch. It felt soft. Kirk sighed and shut his eyes. His eyes opened when a blanket draped over his shoulders and a cup of water was pressed to his lips.

“Here James. Drink,” he said. Cool liquid touched Kirk's lips and he was consumed with thirst. Parting his lips, he drank; the cold water soothing his parched throat. The cup was empty far too soon and Kirk grumbled as Spock set it down.

“There is more and I will get it for you. In the meantime, eat this.” He lifted a small piece of melon to Kirk's mouth. Kirk took it, scarcely chewing it before swallowing. He was given another piece which he devoured just as fast. Spock’s expression was a familiar blank mask except that his eyes shone and Kirk could read the affection in them.

Spock lifted another piece of fruit to Kirk’s mouth but he jerked his head away frowning. “I think I can feed myself.”

Spock shook his head. “It is my pleasure to offer you sustenance. Please allow me to indulge.”

Kirk opened his mouth taking the fruit “Weirdo,” he said his mouth full.

Spock purred in response as his eyes glittered with amusement. “Perhaps, but it matters not to me. If you're happy and taken care of, I care for nothing else. I live for my bondmate and his contentment.”

Spock lifted another piece of fruit to Kirk's lips. Kirk ate it greedily. “Are you going to make this habit?” Kirk asked, his voice edged with the hope that Spock's answer would be ‘yes’.

“I could.” Spock picked up another piece and held it out to Kirk. Kirk leaned forward and bit down this time chewing carefully before swallowing.

“Hmm, just make sure you don't feed me too much. I don't want to get fat,” he said finishing the piece Spock held.

Spock frowned. “But that is somewhat the point. In the time before Surak, a sign of wealth and power was to be corpulent. Since the warlords could scarcely allow themselves to gain the weight, they fattened up their favorite spouse or concubine for show. Nowadays, it's a way to demonstrate one's devotion to their mate.”

Kirk snorted and narrowed his eyes. “Forget it, mister. In any case, I’m not your spouse and I refuse to be a concubine, so there.”

“Actually,” Spock said. “You are my husband.”

“No, am I not. We haven't married yet and in spite of what happened last night, I don't want to marry you anymore. You've acted crazy and cheated on me with some pointy-eared whore.”

“I beg your pardon, James. I did no such thing and we are married. That is what last night was about.”

“Explain,” Kirk said as the muscles in his shoulders tightened. At first, it seemed like Spock wasn't going to talk. He turned his head and stared out the window, but Kirk grabbed Spock's face in his hand, forcing the Vulcan to look at him. “Spock, I order you to tell me exactly what you meant by that. In fact, I order you to tell me everything.”

“Everything?”

“Everything, down to the smallest detail, starting with why you went to Vulcan in the first place.”

“Very well,” Spock said.

Kirk let go of him. “I’m waiting.”

“If you must know--”

“I must.”

“I went to Vulcan to dissolve my bond with T'Pring.” He paused and then added, “my wife.”

“Your what?” Kirk snarled. He brought his fist round and struck Spock’s jaw. Kirk thought he heard a crack. He pulled back and hit Spock again, before trying for a third time. That time Spock caught Kirk's fist. Kirk attempted to hit Spock's with his other fist but the Vulcan caught that one too. He held them both as Kirk struggled to pull free. “You no-good, two-timing, rotten, cock-sucking ─-”

“It is not what you think.”

“Dirty, worthless, snake. I hate you. I wish I never met you. I'll kill you as soon as I get free, I swear to god. I will have your balls as a trophy, you, you ─”

Kirk was interrupted when Spock kissed him, pulling back before Kirk could grasp what was happening and bite him. “Please calm yourself, James. It was an arranged marriage, formed when we were both children. There was never anything between us, and we never consummated the union.”

“I am not listening to you,” Kirk said, seething. “All these years you've been lying to me.”

“I never lied. I simply omitted details about my life on Vulcan that I felt did not pertain to my life with you.”

“I think you having a wife is pretty big detail to leave out, Spock.”

Spock shrugged. “Not really. It was never important to me, so I had no reason to bring it up. Besides, had I told you, you would have rejected me and I could not have beared that.”

Kirk huffed and glared at Spock. He thrust out his lower jaw. “So that's supposed to make it all right then?” He shifted in Spock's lap. “I’m just supposed to say, 'oh okay' and leave it at that?”

“I suppose you are entitled to be angry within reason.”

“How generous of you,” Kirk said sneering. He wrenched his hands-free of Spock's hold and crawled out of his lap, forcing himself to stand.

It wasn't easy as his muscles were sore and stiff. The buzzing in his head was louder now too, ringing in his ears. Kirk shook his head to clear it and ended up losing his balance. He toppled over, landing on his ass. When he hit the floor, he let out a soft whiny 'ow' on instinct.

Spock crawled over to him and nuzzled Kirk's face. The contact felt wonderful and it pained Kirk to push the Vulcan away. “Don't touch me,” he said as he tried to stand again. This time it seemed like his legs would hold him, though his head protested as a wave of dizziness hit him. He took a deep breath and held still to wait for it to pass before he attempted to walk.

“James. Wait, “Spock said, standing up next to him. It irked Kirk that Spock seemed to have no trouble standing.

“What? Have another lover you wish to tell me about? How about kids, Spock? You got any of those?”

Spock shook his head. “I assure you I have no known offspring.” He reached out and took one of Kirk's hands.

Kirk stared down at it, indignant. “Let go of me,” he said looking back at Spock. He kept his voice quiet, although he wanted to shout and throw another punch at the Vulcan.

“No. Not until we are finished here.”

“I think we are definitely finished, Spock.”

“James,” Spock said softly. He tugged on Kirk's arm with care, pulling him close. “Please listen. T'Pring and I meant nothing to each other. There was a sort of companionship between us, but we never wanted to be wed. The only reason we never bothered to dissolve the bond before now was that I never cared enough to return to Vulcan. That all changed when I awoke one morning and realized that in a month's time, I would be wed to you. I wanted to be completely free of all other ties, so I could give myself to you completely.”

Kirk sucked on the inside of his cheeks and refused to look at Spock. He tried to ignore it when Spock's slender arms wrapped around his waist. The room was freezing and Spock felt warm, even more so when he nuzzled the side of Kirk's face, his beard scratching his skin.

“James, say something.” Spock laid kisses along Kirk's jaw moving up to his ear. He blew in it gently. Kirk shivered in his arms and started to lean forward to press himself against Spock. The buzzing in his head was unbearable, but it seemed that the closer he was to Spock the more tolerable it became. His head reached Spock's shoulder, but the bite mark there made him draw back.

What was he doing? He was supposed to be angry.

It occurred then to Kirk that he was too tired to be angry, or anything else for that matter. He placed the flat of his hands on Spock's chest and pushed. “I have nothing to say, Spock. I'm tired, I hurt and I think this bite mark is starting to become infected. I am filthy and in desperate need of a hot shower in a room that still has its windows intact. Just let me go.”

Spock's arms loosened their hold on Kirk's waist allowing him to slip out of their grasp. Taking a step back, Kirk looked around the room until he found his pants. He slipped them on and headed towards the door. He wondered if Spock would come after him, beg him to stay, but taking a quick look over his shoulder he saw that the Vulcan had not moved.

Spock stared at the floor, his eyes closed, lips parted. Facing forward, Kirk continued but found it difficult to move. His legs were heavy and his chest felt tight. His eyes stung and he couldn't see through the tears forming.

No, he was not doing this again. Not for him. Not for anyone. Just a few more steps. Come on... A few more steps...

Kirk stopped and with a sigh, collapsed to the floor. He landed on his knees with tears dripped down his face. “Fuck,” he whispered as he wiped at his face.

Then there were arms around him, long slender ones that pulled him in close and held him tight. Facial hair rubbed his cheeks and chapped lips kissed him. A soothing “hush” filled his ears and Kirk felt peace. The arms held him long after the tears were gone before pulling away.

“I am sorry,” Spock said.

“You should be. I hate you.”

“You do not hate me,” Spock intoned.

“I do,” Kirk answered. He sniffed and sighed until Spock took him in his arms once more.

“You say that, but you do not mean it. I know you do not mean it.” He brought one hand up for Kirk to see.

“Right. Touch-telepath,” Kirk grumbled and shifted in Spock's arms to face him. “I don't hate you. Happy?”

“Relieved. However, I know you are still upset with me. I wish you wouldn't be. I meant no harm. In fact, I thought it would be better this way.”

“How is this better, Spock?”

Spock reached up and stroked Kirk's hair. “I did not want to upset you. It would appear though, I have failed.”

“Big time.”

Spock nodded. “So it would seem, but I would like to continue my explanation. There is more you need to know.”

“Yeah sure. Why not? My day is already ruined.”

“You are so dramatic,” Spock said. Kirk shot him a dirty look, but either Spock didn't see it or didn't care because he continued speaking. “After my bond with T'Pring was broken, I spent some time with my family and tried to convince them that what I was doing was the right thing. My mother was profoundly displeased and refused to speak to me. It was disheartening. My father kept his silence. I still do not know if he approves or not.

“Around the time we were to come here, I began to feel ill. I was hot, tired, restless, and had no appetite. I realized what it was after we all arrived and stole away to my room to hide it. Only T'Pring seemed to catch on and she tried to help me. I am ashamed to admit, in my desperate state I attempted to re-bond with her. That did not go over well as she was already bound to another.”

“Let me just stop you there Spock,” Kirk said holding up a hand. “One, why is T'Pring here? She's your ex-wife.”

“Yes. However, there is no animosity between us. After our bond was extinguished, she re-bonded with another and I witnessed it. I wished to return the favor and asked her to be a guest at our wedding. Not only that, but she said she wanted to meet you. I am not surprised. I spoke very highly of you.”

“Yeah, she said as much, but she used the term 'bragged' and told me point-blank that she wasn't impressed.”

“Oh,” Spock said.

Kirk waved his hand. “Never mind that. I have more questions. You keep talking about bonding. What is that?”

“It is a mental connection established between two or more people. There are different types of bonds, but I am speaking of marital bonds, like the one we have now.”

“What?” Kirk asked. The buzzing in his head sang out and he winced.

Spock frowned. “I see you are still getting used to it. It will get easier as time goes on. I will teach you how to adjust.”

“Is that what's wrong with me? You did some crazy Vulcan hoodoo on my head?”

Spock appeared nonplussed. “It is not 'hoodoo.' It is a bond and a well-matched one at that. It took no time at all for it to form and since it was consummated turning my time, and you did not die, it is already incredibly strong.”

Kirk took in Spock's expression and could see that the Vulcan was proud. He sighed. “So we're Vulcan married now, is that it?”

“Crudely put, but essentially correct.”

Kirk rolled his eyes. “Great. Okay, last question. What in the hell are you talking when you say 'my time'? Is it some Vulcan PMS that you failed to mention?” Now Spock seemed downright uneasy.

“What I am referring to is in reality known as Pon Farr, the time of mating. It is something we do not speak of.”

“We?” Kirk asked.

“My people. It is considered shameful,” Spock said. He turned his head away so Kirk could no longer see his face.

“That explains why no one would give me a straight answer as to what was wrong with you?”

Spock turned to look at Kirk once more. “Of course not. To speak of Pon Farr is disgraceful, but speak of it to a non-Vulcan is ignoble.”

“Why? You want to fuck. Big deal.”

Spock's eyes bore into Kirk's. “It is a big deal. It is not a mere matter wanting sex. We go into a kind of heat and become like wild beasts, stripped of all our logic, slaves to our more basic urges. Can you imagine what that is like for my people?” Spock lowered his gaze again and Kirk could see a faint coloring of his ears.

“You really are ashamed, aren't you?”

Spock nodded. “Surely you can see why. My behavior last night was illogical and animalistic.”

Kirk made a face and shrugged his shoulders. “You could say that, but it wasn't so bad.”

Spock blinked. “But─”

“Spock, please. Yes, you acted weird and crazy. You brought me dead animals and made a nest in some strange attempt to show me what a good husband you'd be. You were rough, said foul things to me while we fucked and you bit me, but If you had just told me..."

"Told you what?"

"The truth. If you had told me everything from the start we could have avoided a pile of shit."

Spock's expression was thoughtful. "Yes, I suppose."

"You suppose?"

"Yes."

Kirk blew out a breath and his shoulders slumped. "All right then," He said. His eyes went to the bite mark on Spock's shoulder. He brought his hand up to it and gingerly touched it with a finger. "Seems I gave as good as I got."

Spock took Kirk's hand. The Vulcan appeared to be in awe of him, his brown eyes shining. “You marked me, as I marked you. I was most pleased when you did. It told me that you accepted me and our coupling.”

“I guess I did,” Kirk said. In his head, the buzzing quieted, giving him a measure of relief. Spock cupped his face and closed in for a kiss. Kirk returned it with delight. The buzzing sang out again and this time seemed to form words:

//Love. Joy. Mate. T'hai'la.//

Their kiss deepened, mouths parting. Spock leaned his weight into Kirk, pushing them both down on the ground. Kirk’s arms went around Spock and he sighed. The words in his head repeated over and over, while feelings of affection, loyalty, and lust streamed through him.

The kiss ended, leaving both men breathless and Kirk smiled up at Spock, who peered down at him with fondness.

“So, we're Vulcan married now, uh?” Kirk asked.

“Bonded,” Spock amended.

“Same thing,” Kirk huffed. He pushed Spock off and sat up looking around the room. Spock sat next to him, his arms snaking around Kirk.

"I guess I’ll need to let everyone know that the wedding is back on.” He brought his knees up resting his arms on them.

“I have a question for you,” Spock said. “Are you accepting your position as my bondmate and husband?”

“I suppose I am,” Kirk said.

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. “You are no longer angry with me?'

Kirk's mouth twisted and he shrugged. “There's no point now. It would be like shutting the barn door after the horse had gotten out, so...” He held up his hands and let them drop. “So what now?”

“It is still early. We could go back to bed, re-consummate our bonding and get some rest before the wedding.”

“I like that idea.”

They stood. To Kirk's surprise, Spock lifted him up in his arms. Kirk opened his mouth to demand that he be put down, but one look at Spock's face stole the words out of his mouth. Instead, he placed his arms around Spock's neck and grinned as Spock moved them back towards their nest in the bedroom.

Suddenly there was a thud behind them. Something hitting the floor. Kirk and Spock exchanged a look before Spock dove to the ground rolling him and Kirk into a ball. They rolled across the carpet and ducked behind the bedroom wall just as an explosion went off in the main room.

It shook the whole of the room and Spock covered Kirk as pieces of plaster rained down upon them. Smoke was everywhere and Kirk struggled to breathe. The room's sprinklers kicked on, drenching them both. It was over in a matter of seconds, but the walls continued to crumble down.

After what seemed like forever, Spock moved allowing Kirk to sit up. The bedroom was covered in wet broken pieces of wall and ceiling. Smoke hung heavy in the air and streamed out the open windows. Next to him, Spock said something but was he toned out by the ringing in Kirk's ears. Kirk stood on unsteady legs and moved towards the main room.

What he saw was a blackened hull that smelled of burnt fabric, smoke, and stagnant water. There was a hole in the floor where the bomb had landed. Pieces of furniture were on fire in spite of the water pouring from the sprinklers. The ringing in his ears slowly gave way to other noises. Outside people were shouting and alarms were sounding.

Something moved at his side and Kirk jumped. He spun around only to see Spock's face, contorted with shock. The Vulcan’s dark eyes moved around in their sockets as he peered around and his mouth hung open. For some reason, this struck Kirk as funny and he started to laugh.

He laughed until he couldn't breathe. He sank down on to the carpet, his laughter turning into sobs. Spock sat down next to him and wrapped an arm around him. Soon emergency services arrived with Spock's parents and the police. After them came the gawkers along with Dr. McCoy and Mr. Farrell.

The remaining fires were put out. Dr. McCoy moved both Kirk and Spock out of the room, placing blankets around their shoulders. Someone had found Spock a pair of sweatpants and he picked little balls of lint off them. Dr. McCoy pulled out his medical scanner and running it over first Kirk and then Spock. Mr. Farrell and Spock's father hovered nearby. Next to them were Officers Malloy and Reed waiting to ask their questions.

As McCoy examined them, muttering under his breath about gray hairs and ulcers, Kirk looked at Spock. “And you thought you were having a bad time. Someone's been trying to kill me.”

  


***

  


Kirk blew out a breath as he stood outside the doors that led into the main ballroom. After a great mass of confusion, some due to the explosion and some due to Kirk telling everyone the wedding was back on, he was cleaned and dressed in a tux. McCoy had bandaged his shoulder with some gaze after Kirk refused the regenerator. He saw the look in Spock's eye when he did and it had made him feel gooey inside and a little turned on.

That feeling intensified when Spock refused the regenerator for his wound as well. While McCoy grumbled Kirk felt Spock inside his mind purring, and it made his knees weak.

Now to get this wedding over with. There was a sudden flashing of imager bulbs. The press was strangely quiet but they still gathered nearby behind the lines of hotel security, snapping photo after photo of Kirk and Spock.

Kirk looked at Spock. The Vulcan was now freshly washed, the stubble on his face gone and his goatee neatly trimmed. He did not seem bothered by the crowding press. Not for the first time Kirk wished that Spock was more like him. Or that he could be more like Spock.

They waited, side by side and Spock offered Kirk his elbow. Kirk smiled as he took it. Just then he heard the music start and the doors open flew open. There was a rumble as everyone before them stood and with great care, they both made their way down the aisle.

From the corners of his eyes, Kirk could make out figures on either side. On Spock's side, stern looking Vulcans, dressed in a mixture of traditional robes and Terran garments, watched them go past. He saw T'Pring in a sleeveless green dress, her hair done in an elaborate style covered in a small hat and veil. Next to her was a stern looking male Vulcan, in a suit and tie. Kirk fought not to laugh as the man had the biggest ears he had ever seen.

On the other side, Kirk caught glimpses of his family and members of the fleet in their dress uniforms. Admirals Komack and Nogura glowered at him, their stares making his skin crawl. One row down from them was Admiral Archer, smiling pleasantly holding the stuffed remains of his beagle in his lap. Kirk suppressed a groan and kept going.

Before them was his crew: Uhura, Chapel and Rand in their red off the shoulder bridesmaid dresses, McCoy, Scotty, Chekov and Sulu in their tuxes. They all looked dignified and proud, and Kirk was happy that he allowed them to be in his wedding, even if he only did make the decision to keep them from rioting.

Dead center at the end of the red carpet stood a small man with white hair clipped close to his scalp and wire-rimmed glasses. He wore all black and seemed nervous, but smiled as best as he could when Kirk and Spock reached him. “Everyone, please be seated,” the man said. There was another din and it was minute before he started speaking again. “Esteemed guests. We are gathered here today to witness the union of these two fine gentlemen...”

Kirk heard McCoy snicker. Before he could turn and shout at the doctor, Spock tugged on his arm gently.

“Before we begin who is giving away these two men?”

Kirk and Spock both looked over their shoulders. Mr. Farrell stood, looking both misty-eyed and proud. Opposite of him, looking stony and expressionless, Sarek and Amanda stood. As they did, Kirk felt the muscles in Spock's arm relax. They both turned back the little man, who now wore a more genuine smile on his face.

“Wonderful. Yes. Thank you. You may sit. Marriage, like all contracts, should not be entered into without advisement,” the old man said looking around. “It is something to be considered, weighed and done with the best of intentions.”

Kirk blinked. How old-fashioned could someone be? It was a struggle for him not to roll his eyes or groan. He cut a quick glance at Spock, who was sucking on his lips. Apparently, he thought the old man was a bit much as well.

“Now, I am given to understand, that the two of you picked your vows to recite to one another?” Both Kirk and Spock nodded.

“Ah, good. We will proceed with that and then you may exchange rings, but before all that, I would like to address the people here. I ask that if there be anyone who feels that these two should not be wed, speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

Once again Kirk and Spock looked out at the multitude. No one moved. Amanda blew out a breath and was fidgeting in her chair, but she remained quiet. Mr. Farrell gave Kirk thumbs up. It would seem that they were in the clear.

Then T'Pring stood.

There was a chorus of murmurs and gasps as she stepped into the aisle, a handbag clutched in front of her. She walked toward them her movements calm and posed.

“T'Pring?” Spock said. “What are you doing?” He released Kirk's arm and stepped towards her. Her eyes lock on to Spock.

“I am sorry, Spock,” she said. “This is not what you think. I simply have an obligation to fill.”

Her gaze turned to Kirk and he realized too late what was happening. Still, he managed to hit the ground before she pulled the phaser from her purse and fired at him. There was a clamoring as guests jumped up, making for the exit. The little man was next to Kirk on the floor.

“Oh dear. I knew I should have stayed at home,” he muttered crawling away.

Kirk looked up and around him. His crew was gone, running like rabbits at the first sign of trouble. Lousy, no good riffraff.

In the aisle, Spock shouted, “T'Pring, what is this about?” Kirk turned his attention back to them as Spock grabbed T'Pring by the arms.

She struggled to get free, her expression determined. “Spock, this is not personal. I have a job to do.”

“You are here on a job? Who hired you?” Spock asked.

“That is between me and my client.” She lashed out with a foot and kicked Spock hard between the legs. Kirk winced in sympathy as Spock fell to the ground. He scanned the room for a nearby exit and saw a slim door in the back of the ballroom, only a few feet from where he was.

Kirk stood and ran for it but was stopped by the Vulcan male that he had seen with T'Pring. He knocked Kirk onto his back, pinning him down with a foot.

“I have him,” the Vulcan said. “Hurry up and shoot him, so we may go.” It was then that Mr. Farrell crashed into him, knocking him off Kirk. They landed in a heap on the floor as the two of them struggled.

McCoy came over and pulled Kirk to his feet. “Fucking Christ Jim. We need to get out of here right now.” As they started towards the exit McCoy was hit. He let go of Kirk's hand and folded up hitting the floor.

Kirk looked toward where the shot come from and saw T'Pring coming toward him. Rage boiled up inside him and he marched straight over to her. He must have confused her as she stopped moving and stared. “I swear if you've killed him...”

She blinked dispassionately at him. “I did not. He is merely stunned.” She lifted her phaser up, pointing it at his face. “You, however....”

Without a hesitation, Kirk grabbed for the phaser. His fingers just touched the barrel before it slipped from his grasp as T'Pring spun aside. She kicked his legs out from under him and he fell on to the red carpet.

Once more, he was on his back. His crew was nowhere to be found and he cursed them all for their self-serving ways. McCoy was still out cold and Mr. Farrell was fighting with the Vulcan male. It looked like he was losing, too.

T'Pring looked down at him, her face giving no hint as to what she was thinking. Nearby Spock got to his hands and knees, crawling over to where Kirk lay. With care placed himself over Kirk's body.

“Spock move,” T'Pring said pointing her weapon once more. Spock shook his head

“Spock, what are you doing?” Kirk hissed.

“Protecting my captain and bondmate.”

There was a sigh from T'Pring. “I would rather not have to kill you too Spock, but I will if given no other choice. You know this.”

“I do,” Spock said. He curled around Kirk's body.

Kirk shook his head. “Spock, she's serious.”

“I am aware of this, James.”

T'Pring shook her head. “A shame, but so be it.”

“Wait, T'Pring!” All eyes turned to Amanda who stood in the doorway. Sarek held her around her waist and she fought to get free of his hold. “Killing Spock was not a part of our deal.”

“I am sorry, Amanda, but in order for me to fulfill my contract, I will have to kill Spock as well. I will warn you one last time, Spock. Move aside.” Spock peered up at her his expression like stone and shook his head again. “Very well,” she said and she squeezed the trigger.

Her shot went wide though as a hand come up and pinched the base of her neck. She fell to the floor revealing the grinning face of the man in the dark suit. He winked at Kirk before looking around the ballroom.

“Sorry I’m late,” he called out. Everyone from Amanda and Sarek to Mr. Farrell and the Vulcan male froze.

Spock looked up and stared. “Sybok?”

The man looked down and reached out a hand to Spock. “Hey, baby brother. Happy to see me?”

“Delighted but I thought you couldn't make it?” Spock said as he stood up.

“I only told you that because father insisted. He thought something like this would happen and wanted me to sneak in to keep an eye on things.”

“I see,” Spock said.

“What?” Kirk said from the floor.

Amanda turned on her husband. “Sarek, why would you interfere? I was trying to save our son from being stuck with that fleet rat for the rest of his life.”

“And in doing so you almost got him killed, Amanda. I have had enough of your foolishness.” Sarek said as he flung her into a chair. She gave him a pleading look, then started to cry.

“I just wanted what was best for our son.”

Sarek shook his head and moved toward them. “Spock, you are unharmed?”

“Yes, Father.”

“And your captain?” Three sets of eyes turned to look down at Kirk.

He glowered at them. “I would be better if someone helped me up.”

Spock offered him a hand. Standing Kirk, looked around. Most of the guests were gone, save for Admiral Archer, who had remained in his seat, still holding his dog. Kirk could see the man was petting the thing and whispering to it. He turned back to Spock and his father.

“I hate your family.” Spock and Sarek looked at one another their eyebrows raised in unison.

“Even me, Captain?”

Kirk turned to look at the man in the dark suit. “Who are you?”

The man grinned. “Your soon to be brother-in-law.”

Kirk blinked mystified. “You're a Vulcan?'

The man pushed his long dark hair away from his face to reveal two pointed ears. Kirk watched as he wiggled them.

“Sybok is the offspring from my first marriage,” Sarek said from behind him.

Kirk looked at Sarek and then at Spock who nodded. He then took another look at Sybok. “I hate all of you,” he said before stepping away to stand next to McCoy fallen body.

“He is a bit like your mother, Spock,” Sarek said behind him.

“Affirmative, Father.”

Kirk spun around and glared. The three Vulcans look back at him, two with blank expressions and the third with a wide grin on his face. He sought for something to say but thought of nothing more than a string of curses. He muttered some of them as he turned back to McCoy. On the ground, McCoy sat up, his legs sprawled out from under him.

“Bones?”

“What in the fuck hit me?”

“A phaser blast,” Kirk said. He placed his hands under McCoy's arms and lifted him to his feet. McCoy staggered a bit but remained upright.

“That fucking bitch. I'll kill her.”

“No need. She's down and everyone is okay.”

“She's down?” McCoy asked. Kirk nodded and watched as McCoy moved over to where T'Pring lay.

T'Pring was starting to move on the floor but went still again as McCoy jerked the phaser out her unresisting hand and shot her. No one said anything to him as he looked around the ballroom. "I just stunned her. Serves her fucking right."

Kirk shook his head before turning to where he last saw Mr. Farrell. The large man was sitting on the floor with one hand over his face. He was bleeding from his nose and mouth. The Vulcan male was nowhere to be found.

“He got away, Sir,” Mr. Farrell said, his face glum.

“That's fine,” Kirk said. “We'll find him later. Can you stand?' Mr. Farrell nodded and got to his feet. He lowered his hand and Kirk saw that his left eye was starting to swell shut. He turned and moved back toward Spock and his family, Mr. Farrell lumbering closely behind.

“Well?” Kirk asked Spock.

Spock opened his mouth to reply when the door on the back wall opened. Scotty's head popped out, looked around and ducked back in the door. “The coast is clear, but the captain is still alive so I imagine we're all in a heap o' trouble.” There was a chorus of curses and groans as one by one the crew filed out. Kirk marched over to them and they at least had the sense to stand at attention. Kirk walked the line glaring at each crewman as he passed.

“You cowardly bunch of assholes. I'm putting you all on report and as soon as we beam back to the ship I’m sending each one of you to the booth.” There was a huge clamor as everyone started to complain and protest. Kirk stood there for a minute listening to the commotion, his mouth pulled in a thin line.

“Shut up all of you,” he shouted. The crew went silent. He smiled. “For that little outburst, you'll all be serving on gamma shift as well and spend an extra turn in the booth once you are well enough to do so.”

There was more dissension from the ranks but Kirk didn't notice. His attention was on the whimpering coming from behind one of the flower displays. He looked and found the little man in black, curled in a tight ball.

“Hey, Spock. Look,” he called. “It's our officiator.”

Spock walked up and peered down. “So it is.” He looked at Kirk, one eyebrow up. “Shall we continue?”

“Are you kidding?” Kirk asked. Spock gave him a pointed look. “Of course you're not." He sighed. "Hey you,” he said to the little man. “On your feet. You have a wedding to perform.”

“Uh?” The man said looking up.

“You heard me.” Kirk turned to face everyone else. “All right. Let's do this. Spock, take T'Pring and put her in one of the chairs. Sarek, go join your wife. Mr. Farrell, return to your seat." He pointed to his crew. “You assholes, take your places before you end up with three turns in the booth.”

No one moved.

“Now!”

Everyone moved at once following his directions. Only Sybok remained where he was. “And me?” He asked.

Kirk glared at him and waved a hand towards the chairs. “Go sit with your father and Amanda.”

Kirk watched Sybok scamper off. He turned to see the little man taking his place at the end of the aisle. Kirk took his place in front of him. “Look,” he said. “I know that we're supposed to exchange vows, but can we skip that part and just say 'I do'?”

“I don't see why not,” the little man said. “Do you still want to exchange rings?”

“Yeah sure, we can do that right after you ask the 'I Do's'.”

By this time Spock had taken his place next to Kirk. “But James, I picked out our vows and I would like─”

“Shut. Up.” Kirk turned on Spock one finger raised. “I have had enough. I never wanted this huge wedding. You did and everything has been planned and arranged around you and want you wanted. Just once I want something here and what I want is for this to be over with. So, we are skipping the vows. Have I made myself clear?'

The ballroom was silent. It seemed like everyone was holding their collective breath.

The Vulcan seemed to be thinking, his mouth pulled down in a small frown. "Why did you not tell me?"

"Cause you seemed to want this stupid wedding."

"I did, but I thought it would be something you would like too."

Kirk stood with his mouth open. "Why would you think that?"

"You never said otherwise."

“I didn't, did I?" He looked around and felt tremendously stupid.

"It would seem, that we both need to work on our communication skills..."

Kirk looked back at Spock as he tilted his head to one side, his eyes soft. He took one of Kirk's hands in his own. Kirk looked down at their clasped hands then back into Spock's face. He felt the buzzing in his head again.

Kirk squeezed Spock's hand and nodded. “I guess we do.”

"Do you wish to continue?" Spock asked. His tone was guarded. Worry and fear bleed into Kirk's head. It mixed with uncertainty. He opened this mouth to say no, but the buzzing his head stopped him. They were already married. They were bound to one another so what was one wedding? He smiled and nodded his head. Spock’s shoulders rose and his chest expanded out his eyes alight with joy. The worry ebbed away leaving adoration and awe.

Heat ran up Kirk's neck and face. He turned to the little man in black. “Get on with it.”

The little man jumped and babbled to himself for a minute before pressing his hand together. “Do you, James Tiberius Kirk, take,” he paused licking his lips. “Uh... “

“Do not bother to attempt to pronounce my family name,” Spock said. “Spock will do.”

The man nodded. “Do you take Spock as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

The man smiled and turned to Spock. “Do you, Spock, take James to be your lawful wedded husband?

“I do.”

“The rings?”

Kirk turned to look back at Mr. Farrell, who stood pulling a small box from a pocket in his suit. He handed it to Kirk. Inside were two thick bands of white gold. One was lined with tiny black gems, that seemed to absorb the surrounding light. Spock took that one while Kirk took the other.

Moving as one, they each slipped the rings they held on the other's left hand. Around them, there seemed to be a collective sigh and the little man took their hands in his own. “By the power invested in me by the might of the Terran Empire and our glorious emperor, the Caesar, I declare that you are now wed. You may kiss to seal the contract before witnesses.” He let go of their hands and stepped away.

Kirk froze. In all the years he and Spock have been together they never displayed any sign of affection in front of others. Now their crew, Spock's family, and Admiral Archer watched on, and he didn't know how to proceed. Thankfully, Spock took the lead, raising the first two fingers of his right hand. relief wash through Kirk and he pressed his fingers to Spock's.

Around them everyone stared, confusion radiating off them. Except for Sarek and Sybok. Sarek gave them a pleased, not-quite-a-smile, while Sybok stood clapping his hands.

“I call dibs on the bouquet," he called out. This started an avalanche of comments from the crew as each of them laid their own claim. Kirk looked around and shook his head, smirking.

“I hate to disappoint them all, but there isn't a bouquet.” He took one look at Spock's face and the smirk was gone. “There is a bouquet, isn't there?”

“Just a small one,” Spock answered.

“Is there a garter too?” Kirk asked.

“Only if you bought one for the honeymoon.” A flare of arousal came through the bond and Kirk grinned.

“No, but that can be arranged.”

He grasped Spock's hands in his own and ignoring the surrounding commotion he leaned forward and closed his eyes. His lips had barely touched Spock's when there came a crash and the sound heavy marching. They both looked up to see men and woman in full riot gear running into the ballroom. They lined the walls, their shields out in front, assault rifles at the ready. Behind them came Malloy and Reed, wearing armored vests, each carrying phaser shotguns.

“Everyone freeze,” Malloy shouted, firing one shot up towards the ceiling. He took a look around the room and spotted Kirk and Spock. His shoulders slumped as he lowered the weapon. “You again?” He said. Next to him, Reed shook his head making a face. “We are getting really sick of coming out here cause y'all fleet rats keep causing trouble.”

“Fleet rats?” Spock said to himself. Kirk held up a hand silencing him and his crew as they snarled.

“I am sorry about the trouble, Officers. If it will make it up to you, you can all be guests at my reception, after you arrest this woman,” he pointed at T'Pring, “for several attempts at murder.”

Malloy and Reed seemed to consider this.

“Open bar?” Malloy asked.

“Yep,” Kirk said.

“What kind of cake?” Reed asked.

“Vanilla.”

Reed and Malloy looked at each other, neither looking too thrilled.

“Vanilla?” Reed said.

“Yeah, but an open bar,” Malloy said.

“Okay,” Reed said, still not looking pleased. Malloy turned back to Kirk.

“We accept. Where?”

Kirk pointed out the doors. “In the restaurant. Follow the signs.”

“All right everyone, you heard the man. Ditch your gear and get moving.” Those in armor cheered and moved quickly towards the door, while Reed and Malloy strode up to T'Pring, pulling her out her seat. Kirk watched happily as they matched her out, reading her rights to her as they went. He turned to Spock and took his elbow.

“Shall we?”

“We shall,” Spock replied and arm in arm they walked down the aisle toward the restaurant, the remnants of their guests following behind.

  


***

  


The reception was in full swing with the crew mingling with the local police force and everyone was taking advantage of the free-flowing alcohol. In the center of it all, Kirk and Spock danced.

“Not only is T'Pring your ex-wife, but she's an assassin as well?” Kirk asked.

“That is correct,” Spock said.

“Who, according to your brother, your mother hired to kill me so we wouldn't marry, but your brother, who's also an assassin, was hired by your father to keep an eye on me?”

“Yes,” Spock said.

“That is so fucked up,” Kirk muttered. He started to say something more on the subject when Spock dipped him suddenly. The action incited jeering and catcalls. Kirk started to blush. When Spock lifted him out of the dip, Kirk couldn't help but see a faint hint of amusement Spock's face.

"Do not think too much about it," Spock said.

With that, the dance ended. Kirk reached down and took Spock's hand in his own, giving it a squeeze as they walked off the dance floor. “So, what's left to do here before we can make a run for it?”

“The only things left are to cut the cake and throw the bouquet, and since Sybok has absconded with the bouquet...” Both Kirk and Spock turned to look to where Sybok sat with Sarek, a small bouquet of red and white roses in his hand. Sybok waved. Sarek raised an eyebrow at his eldest before turning his cool gaze on the happy couple.

Kirk waved back puzzled. “Spock, your brother is rather unusual for a Vulcan.”

“Yes.”

“Any reason why?”

“None you need to concern yourself with,” Spock said. Kirk wanted to dig deeper into this but his husband’s tone hinted that even if he asked, nothing more would be said about the subject. So, Kirk let it go.

“Ready to cut the cake?”

Immediately Spock's expression softened marginally as he released Kirk's hand and slipped his arm around Kirk's waist.

“I would find that agreeable,” Spock said. They started to move over to where the large three-tier cake sat waiting when Kirk heard someone behind them.

“Oh, Captain.” He and Spock both turned to look to see Officers Reed and Malloy approaching. The two men were still in their uniforms but had removed the armored vests a long time ago. Malloy held out a hand to Kirk. “We just wanted to thank you for letting us crash your reception.”

Kirk took the hand and shook it. “Well, after the trouble you have been through the last few days, it seemed like the right thing to do.”

“It was no trouble as we're just doing our job,” Reed said. Malloy shot his partner a pointed look that amused Kirk.

“All the same,” Kirk said. He gave the men a smile that he didn't feel.

Malloy flashed a tight little smile. “Yeah, well thanks.”

“Yeah thanks,” Reed chimed in. “So where will you be honeymooning?”

“You're not sticking around here are you?” Malloy asked.

“No Officer. We'll be heading to Risa after tonight,” Spock said.

“Oh good. No offense, but if we never see you or your crew again it will be too soon,” Malloy said. Kirk gaped before curling his lips back. He stepped forward to snap at the officer when Spock gave him a light squeeze.

Kirk peered at his husband, noting the slight pleading look in the Vulcan's eyes. He relented blowing out a breath and licking his lips. Looking back at Reed and Malloy he couldn't help but notice that they both hands on the buts of their weapons. Kirk flashed them both a cheery smile.

“I'm sorry to hear that, but given the circumstances, I understand. Perhaps it will be for the best. We're not nice people and the next time you see us, it may not go well for you.”

As he spoke he pressed in close, the smile still on his face. It was amusing to watch as both Malloy and Reed leaned away from him. Kirk paused for a second to take in the sight before turning a more genuine grin on Spock. “Cake?'

“Yes. Please excuse us, Officers.” Spock pulled on Kirk's waist guiding them both towards the cake. “Really James? I want to actually be able to go on our honeymoon and not spend the night in jail.”

“They wouldn't have dared,” Kirk hissed.

“They were ready to pull their weapons on you. Had they shot you, I would have inflicted harm on both of them, possibly killing them. I would have been taken into custody then I am sure.”

“Are you saying you wouldn't go to prison for me, Spock?” Kirk batted his lashes playfully at the Vulcan. They had made it behind the cake and the guests were starting to take notice as many moved to crowd around the table.

Spock stared straight at Kirk, his gaze consuming. “James, in spite of the way I have behaved these last few days, there is no end to the things I would not do for you.” He lowered his face, pressing his forehead against Kirk's. “You are my t'hai'la. Say the word and there is no battlefield vast enough, no hell sulfurous enough, no sea of blood abysmal enough that I would not come to you on my knees and give you your heart's every desire.”

Kirk shut his eyes to savor the feel of Spock's breath on his face. A warmth was spreading out into his limbs. “My heart's every desire?” he asked. Spock hummed an affirmation. Kirk chuckled as he was suddenly struck with a memory. Of him in Spock's lap, the light of the stars shining down on them through the sheets of transparent aluminum. “I want the universe and all it contains.”

He opened his eyes to see Spock raise an eyebrow at him. For a moment it seemed like his words were lost on the Vulcan and Kirk opened his mouth to dampen the flames of embarrassment away when Spock's expression softened.

“If that is what you wish, then so be it. I am, after all, thy servant.”

“Faithful and besotted?”

Kirk peered into Spock's face and became lightheaded at the hungry look that passed over the Vulcan's face. Two of Spock's finger reached up to his face, leaving his skin burning where they touched. A shiver went down his spine as Spock whispered in his ear: “Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> As I stated above, this is five years late. I was supposed to write this up for Museaway when she won a bid for a story. She gave me all the details that she would like in the fic and I figured I could write it up as a follow up to my story The Gift That Keeps on Vexing. I also decided that it was going to be my entry into a big bang challenge that year too. 
> 
> I wrote the story and it felt off. So I worked on it some more. Then some more and even more. I took out parts, put stuff in, wiped out whole sections. I became obsessed with this story and trying to make it PERFECT. It had to be perfect. Nothing less. 
> 
> I did post it to complete my obligation for the big bang, but then turned around like a day or two later after having a massive panic attack and took it down. As far as I was concerned it still needed work. I tolled away at it some more until I hated it. 
> 
> Finally, I gave up. I realized it would never be perfect and I had failed. I took that hard. Then my hard drive died and I thought I had lost this fic forever. Until a few days ago. Turns out I had a back up stored away on another drive that I had forgotten about and I re-read the story as it was. And I didn't hate it. In fact, I liked it. It wasn't perfect but I found it to be enjoyable. I guess several years of not obsessing over it charged my mental attitude about this story. So, I thought about it and thought it about and decided to repost it.  
> To Muse, I am a thousand times over sorry for not getting this up sooner. That I let myself get in the way of giving you this story sooner. I know that you're no longer really in the fandom anymore (neither am I for that matter ^_^;;;;;;) but I hope that you still like it or will at least forgive me for my transgressions.


End file.
